I'm Just Trying to Get Home
by McEvoyer
Summary: AU. Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak were high school sweethearts but when life threw them an unexpected curveball, their relationship came to an abrupt end. Seven years later they meet again, but with Oliver still dealing with the island and moonlighting as the Hood, can they move past all the heartache and start afresh?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! So I've had this idea running around my head for a while now and thought I'd unleash it upon the world. I was going to originally post it as a long one-shot, but then I thought I'd add to it so now it'll be a multi-chapter fic - how many chapters I'm not sure yet, all depending on how inspired I get. Haha. Anywho, I hope you like what you read :)**

**Alas, I don't own Arrow.**

* * *

_The moment Oliver Queen looked into Felicity Smoak's eyes, he knew he loved her. And not in that high-school-I-love-you kind of way, oh no; in the I-want-you-and-only-you-forever kind of way. _

_He was sixteen when she tumbled – literally – into his life, spinning his whole world and everything he had ever known upside-down. _

_Though he had used the library for more…exploratory things in his time, this particular day – a Wednesday to be exact, he was catching up on algebra homework. Contrary to popular belief and his overwhelming reputation, Oliver did actually care every now and again about his grades, and Mr Lynch had made it abundantly clear that if he didn't pass the next midterm, he'd fail the semester and would have to go to summer school. Even the thought of summer school made him shudder. So there he was in the library, pencil in hand, tapping out some rhythm on his page as he read and reread the equations from the book in front of him, when the double doors flung open and a petite girl with a mass of blonde hair hurtled through and spilled onto the ground in spectacular fashion. _

_The tiny, adorable shriek that escaped her lips in the split-second it took for her to lose balance, toss her books asunder, and fall to the floor caught his attention immediately, his pencil dropping with a thud onto his notepad._

_Others around him lifted their heads in their study stupors long enough to take in the sight and some of them even had the nerve to laugh, but not one of them moved to help the girl. _

_Oliver, on the other hand, was over to her in a flash, his homework forgotten for the time being. Not normally the first one to help a student in need, he surprised even himself with how quickly he reacted to this complete stranger. Without a second thought, he gathered her books clumsily into his arms and angled them into his chest so he could offer her his hand._

_And that's when it happened._

_Her eyes met his; bright blue orbs that looked deep into his as if seeing right down into his soul, their clarity reassuring. Oliver gulped, feeling a fluttery sensation rush through his body._

_The timidity with which she accepted his hand pulled a small smile from him, and to put her at ease, he pumped her hand twice once she had eventually given in and helped her to her feet. He tried not to notice how soft her skin was, or how perfectly their hands fit together, or how her glasses sat crookedly on her nose, or how her lips were the brightest shade of pink he had ever seen…but it was all a little too difficult. He'd never been so…taken by someone so quickly. Sure, he instantly knew when a girl was hot, but this girl, _this girl_, well she wasn't hot – she was beautiful. And that concept was completely alien to him. _

"_Thanks," she said tentatively, her voice exactly as light as he imagined. Licking her lips and pushing a blonde lock behind her ear, she moved to take her books from him but he pulled them away from her teasingly. _

"_I got 'em," he assured, lifting them up and down in illustration. _

_She smiled up at him and Oliver swore he felt his heart skip a beat._

"_Wow, it's not every day that a hot guy helps me out and offers to carry my books–" she forcibly shook her head as if the action alone could reel her words back in, "- I didn't mean to comment on your…obvious handsomeness, I was just – I don't really know. I talk a lot. And I talk out loud a lot and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or make myself look like some kind of weirdo girl that can't…seem to stop…talking." Her face scrunched then, forming this utterly adorable expression and Oliver couldn't keep his grin at bay. "I'm gonna shut up now."_

_He laughed quietly, extending his hand out again. "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen."_

_She took it without much thought this time, her cheeks blushing. "As in multi-billionaire Oliver Queen?"_

"_That's a long first name," he joked. "But more like: Oliver Queen, son of multi-billionaires."_

"_Oh sorry, I didn't mean…Felicity Smoak." She ducked her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."_

"_You already said that, Felicity." He loved how her name just rolled off his tongue, as though he was always meant to say it. Oh boy he was in deep already. "Are you new because I don't remember seeing you around here before?" That was a prime opportunity for him to drop his 'Because I would have remembered seeing someone so beautiful' line, but he didn't want to demote a girl so captivating with something as stupidly expected and cliché as that. He already respected her too much for that._

_She nodded, her hair falling over her shoulders with the movement. "Yeah; just transferred. I used to go to a private school in Coast City but my mom got a new job in Starling and apparently this is the best school in the city so…here I am. I actually came to the library to catch up on all the reading I have to do – you guys really have a tough workload, by the way – when well…" she made a flurry of hand movements that didn't really make much sense but he understood them nevertheless._

"_Well let me formally welcome you to Greenwood Academy. Anything you want to know about this place, just ask me. I'm the expert on all things Greenwood. And, you're in luck. I happen to have the best seat in the library." He moved toward his table, readjusting her books in his arms so that her science book wasn't dangling dangerously from his hold. _

"_Actually," she interjected with a hand on his shoulder. She quickly yanked it away when she realized what she had done, and Oliver pretended not to notice the lingering heat her touch had left. "I prefer to study alone…" her eyes widened to the point of impossibility, "and I didn't mean for it to come out like that. You seem really nice and I don't want you to think that I'm ungrateful for your help and I'm sure you're a great study partner but—"_

"_Felicity," Oliver cut in with a chuckle, placing her books on his table. "I won't say a word – I promise."_

_He pulled out the chair and motioned for her to sit down. "Oh, well…thank you," she mumbled sheepishly, slinking onto the seat._

"_You already said that, too," he remarked, leaning over her slightly. Her answering smile definitely made his heart do funny things._

_He never did get his algebra homework finished. _

* * *

It was a Wednesday when he saw her again.

He planned to grab a coffee before running through a bunch of paperwork in prep for a meeting later when there she stood like a vision in front of him, making his whole body slack.

"Felicity…"

It fell from his lips so naturally that it was as though he had never stopped saying it. It sounded harsher though; the lower, edgier tone making it seem as if it came from someone else. He furrowed his brow at the realization.

She was just as beautiful as he remembered – no, she was _more_ beautiful. Her hair was a brighter shade of blonde than she used to sport, but she still had the skinny glasses and brightly painted lips that he loved so much. His heart swelled, feeling the same tingly buoyancy he had always felt around her. _God, she was gorgeous. _No matter what, Felicity Smoak somehow extinguished the fire of pressure and lightened his load in the simplest of ways and seeing her now, he suddenly felt lighter than he had in forever. Her mere presence soothed him in ways he never thought possible.

She angled her head to the side, casting a sideways glance, her whole body going still when she registered him. Her mouth opened; a whoosh of breath expelled his way.

"Oliver," she said back in the same tone of wonderment, his name sounding so musical and so _right_ with her fluffy lilt.

Everything stopped.

Sure it was cliché, but nothing ever feels cliché when you're in the moment. It just consumes you to the point where it feels normal.

Everything disappeared into the background of his consciousness and all that remained was Felicity, _his _Felicity, right in front of him. The air thickened, a weird weight of unspoken thoughts and feelings pressing down on them.

And then their eyes locked.

And it was as if he was transported back to that eighteen-year-old boy that felt as though he could do anything as long as he had her. Love was something else, wasn't it? Her blue depths were open, honest, filled with so much emotion that he relearned a truth he had acknowledged a long time ago: he was desperately in love with Felicity Smoak.

"Hi."

He had hoped to say something more, something with a little more substance; a perfectly sculpted sentence that encompassed everything that he wanted to say, but words escaped him. That literally was the best he could do in the moment while his brain scrambled to grab hold of the situation. That's not to say that he didn't feel like a complete idiot though.

"Hi," she mimicked breathily, her eyes shining as she examined him. And then, with wary movement, she bridged the gap and wrung her arms around his neck, pulling him oh so gently into a hug. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening until his arms cautiously brushed around her body, not going so far as to press her into him but doing enough to feel the warmth of her skin through her clothes.

For a second, he closed his eyes and drank in her presence, finding solace in her familiarity. A single flare, a spark, shot through his core, somehow setting alight his otherwise dormant heart and the muscle thumped with purpose as if trying to show him that it was still there, still beating, urging him to hold on.

They'd always fit perfectly together; her head tucking snugly under his chin as his muscles enveloped her securely. This was new and old at the same time; the contrast not lost on him as she broke away awkwardly.

"You're here. Well obviously you're here, you're standing right in front of me plain as day but…" she trailed off, shaking her head imperceptibly, "_you're here_."

He knew what she meant.

He was here.

_He was alive._

"Yeah," he managed to choke out, his throat constricting.

"I mean I knew you were…that you survived on an island and that you'd returned to Starling but…I just never thought I'd…" Oliver could count the times on one hand when Felicity had been at a loss for words and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, hating the fact that he was the one causing it right then. He pretended not to notice how her eyes filled when she lookedat him. "You're okay?"

She posed it as a question that required an answer. She always did prefer the direct approach.

Oliver very rarely lied to Felicity in all their time together, and though so much of him wanted to sugarcoat the darkness that consumed him daily and spin something about growing and adjusting and how it was a work in progress but that he was really starting to feel more like the old Oliver, he just couldn't do it. Looking into her blues and finding rest in her affectionate expression made him feel…brave. Stronger, somehow. Only she had ever made him feel that way - like he was a better person, someone worthy of a woman like her, someone worthy in general. It was amazing how someone, a single soul, could draw out that sense in another person.

He swallowed hard, a strangled cough slipping out. "I, uh…I don't think you want to hear the answer to that," he replied lowly.

Her face fell, crestfallen. Her hands instinctively moved toward him but she reined them back, clasping them in front of her. "Oliver-"

"It's been a long time, Felicity." He _hated _how empty his voice was, how it betrayed him, how it exposed him as the broken man he was.

"7 years," she supplied after a short beat. "7…" she blew out a breath, "…really long years." There was something he had never heard in her tone before that caught him, his jaw tightening so much his teeth groaned.

"I…" What could he say? _I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. I shouldn't have let you go. There wasn't a day on that island when I didn't think about you. I love you. "_How long have you been back in Starling? I didn't know you were…that you were here."

Whatever he wanted to say, whatever he should have said, that wasn't it. Nervous, he rubbed his thumb between his fingers, a tick he had acquired in childhood.

She toyed with her bracelet, spinning it around her wrist distractedly. She used to do that a lot. "Only about a week. I was in Central City for a while working for a software firm but the boss was an ass and the pay was pretty terrible and my cubicle always smelled like fertilizer - and you didn't need to know any of that…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, pained, her eyes no longer looking his way, "especially now. Anyway, I, uh, have an interview at Queen's Consolidated as an IT consultant so if that goes well I could be based here permanently."

"At QC?" he echoed. "Great place to work." He went for teasing but it came off too flat, too forced. Why couldn't he just _speak _to her? There was so much to say and yet, there was nothing at all.

"So I've heard."

"I can put a good word in for you," he offered. "I know nobody knows computers like you do. And you could say that I have a little sway when it comes to who we hire."

She cocked her head to the side curiously. "We?"

He gave a short, perfunctory nod, gesturing to himself with a loose hand. "Oliver Queen, CEO."

"Oh, wow, I didn't know…that's great, Oliver. I know you used to talk about following in your father's footsteps all the time so I don't know why the thought never even crossed my mind; I guess I just never thought you'd actually do it." She slammed her eyes shut, biting her lower lip. "That's not what I meant! I just –"

His lips twitched. "It's okay - I never thought I'd do it either. I hated the idea of being CEO and I'm pretty sure I made that clear a number of times. But the family business needed my help and so, here I am."

"Here you are." Once again her eyes appraised him with a sense of awe as though she couldn't truly believe what she was seeing. But just as soon as the light was there, it was gone and she, as if jolting back to reality, shook her head and checked her watch hastily, "I'm running late for my interview so…" she stopped, gazing at him in confliction.

_Please don't go._ _Not again._

"Of course. You have to go."

They locked stares; his words acting like a trigger and cutting through everything, echoing what he said the last time they saw one another, the memory evidently still fresh in both of their minds.

The blonde moved away, intent on leaving but Oliver reacted, reaching out to place his hand on her shoulder. The movement so natural, so familiar, startled them both and his thumb traced the line of her collarbone without him even realizing it. What was it they said about old habits? A flash of heat shot through his hand, setting his body on edge. "_Felicity_," he pleaded in that tone he reserved for her and only her.

She licked her lips. "What do you want to say, Oliver?"

He shook his head, exhaling sharply. "Can we, I don't know, have a coffee…just to – to talk?"

The offer ruminated in her eyes, obvious deliberation going on. Eventually she twisted her head to look at his hand resting on her shoulder and nodded a few times as if the action alone would convince her that she was doing the right thing. "Okay," she let out, the word a mere wisp into the dull drone of the everyday and he felt his heart pound stronger in triumph.

"Okay."

Finally, after what felt like forever, she smiled. It didn't reach her eyes and it didn't light up her whole face like he remembered but it still made him pause, his breath hitching in a way it hadn't in 7 years.

"Tomorrow? Here, at noon?"

The muscles in his face relaxed, the tiniest of grins forming when he replied, "I'll be here. I promise."

Felicity pulled away from his hold and with her head down, she moved past him. "Oliver," she said suddenly, turning back to face him. "I'm…it's _so_ good to see you." And then she headed out of the shop.

Oliver, releasing a long sigh, prayed that maybe, just maybe, the powers that be were on his side in this twist of fate.

Fate seemingly had handed him a miracle – but what he planned to do with it, he wasn't exactly sure yet.

* * *

"You gonna tell me why you've been acting weird all day?"

Oliver rested both his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands, drained from the endless board meetings he'd been subjected to. Board meetings sucked the life out of him as it was, but since his mind was in a totally different place it was like they were trying to kill him with frustration. Not to mention Isabel was so irritating at times.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said into his hands, enjoying the blotchy darkness.

"Come on, Oliver," Digg scorned with a sigh. "You've been distant since this morning and you looked like you were going to lose your head over Isabel earlier, so what gives?"

He dropped his hands and looked up at his partner. "Sometimes her sunny disposition grates on my nerves," he answered sardonically.

Diggle chuckled humourlessly, crossing his arms across his chest. He obviously wasn't going to let it go until he got something out of him. If Digg proved anything over the two years he and Oliver had been working together, it was that he was persistent. "I understand telling the truth is a luxury you don't indulge in often but how about you try it right now. Can't hurt, right?"

"Maybe I don't want to talk about it."

"Too bad," he retorted quickly. "Because we aren't going anywhere until you spill whatever's got you looking so spooked."

"Digg, I really-"

A swift hand came up to stop his excuse. "Seriously, man; now's not the time to close yourself off. I get that you have secrets – I mean, we all have things we keep to ourselves, right? But sometimes they're the things that rip us apart." He perched himself on the edge of the desk. "Usually you're much better at hiding whatever's going on in that head of yours but if whatever it is affects what we do for this city every night, then I think you owe it to me to explain."

Oliver, knowing that Diggle was right, let out an irritated grunt and ran a hand through his cropped hair. Felicity wasn't a subject he was comfortable talking about. Even after they were over he refused to mention her - even to Tommy or Thea. He just couldn't expose his pain. "I just…" he exhaled slowly, his jaw ticking. "I ran into someone from my past and it's thrown me…a little."

"A little?" The man scoffed incredulously. "So who is it?"

His thoughts drifted the sight of her in the coffee shop, and the way his whole body seemed to come alive as soon as he laid eyes on her. Truth be told, his thoughts had never been too far away from her, but he decided a long time ago to keep her in a completely separate part of mind; a place untouched by the darkness and shame that haunted him. Felicity was his beacon of light – always had been, even before the island – and she deserved to occupy an untainted place in his heart. But she was rarely off his mind.

Even now as he looked out at the sun hovering tauntingly over the horizon, waiting to slip away in a splash of colour, he couldn't help but wonder at what she was doing; what she was thinking; how her interview went. He ignored the shiver than crept through him at the mere idea of her working in the same building as him day in, day out.

"Felicity Smoak," he finally said, her name tripping off his tongue with such reverence. "We were together…before the island."

His friend narrowed his eyes accusingly. "But you took Sara Lance on the Gambit with you? And you were linked with Laurel at the time?" The judgement tone he adopted was pretty difficult to shrug off. It was no secret that Oliver went out of his way to build up a playboy image in the wake of their break-up and those last few months before the accident were like black spots in his past, spreading and staining everything good he had.

"It's…" _What was it?_ "It's complicated." The heel of his hand worked into his forehead. "We broke up four months before I went on the Gambit. Felicity got a special scholarship that enabled her to attend any university of her choice in Europe." He sighed, pushing his chair back and making it screech against the floor. "And so she went to study abroad and our relationship just…ended." He swallowed hard, the threat of tears so very real. He wasn't a crier by any stretch of the imagination but even just thinking about the day they split made his throat ache. He'd never forget her face. Or her voice. Or her tears.

Or his.

Oliver stood and Diggle mirrored him, the curiosity practically radiating off him.

"She's the only girl I've ever loved. Really loved. I thought…" he trailed off, coughing a laugh, "I thought we'd get married. You know, live happily ever after in some mansion somewhere. I guess I was pretty idealistic back then." A melancholy smile swept over his face. "But Felicity…she was _it _for me. I never wanted anyone else."

"So why didn't you look for her when you returned?"

"Apart from the fact that I was a complete jerk to her the last time I saw her and the infamous reputation I racked up after she'd left, the Oliver she knew died on that island, Digg. The kid that got on that boat never came back. I'm not…I'm not the guy she was in love with. Not anymore. My life is…it's filled with darkness. Not to mention the fact that I'm the Hood; I'm the one going around shooting arrows at people and putting myself in danger every chance I get. She doesn't deserve to be around that. She deserves _so much _more."

The older man took a few steps toward him, his gaze unswerving. "Oliver I know you don't think you're worthy of being happy, that you've seen and done things that are unforgivable, but you're wrong. What you do for this city as the Hood is good, man. The sooner you start believing that, the better. And maybe right now you're not the guy for this Felicity girl, but that doesn't mean that you can't be the guy for her someday."

He ducked his head, his lips clamped together. He wanted nothing more than to believe that, he really did, but was there enough redemption in this world for him? Broken didn't even begin to describe him; he was barely even alive. Sure, being the Hood gave him a goal, gave him a purpose. And his mother and Thea offered occasional moments of reprieve. And Diggle was a true friend. But Tommy was dead, and Laurel hated him, and Sara was gone.

Frequently, Oliver floundered for meaning in his life, wondering what it was all about, wondering why he lived when others had to die, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. Some days he was doing well and he felt as though maybe, just maybe, everything was looking up; other days he was slipping into an abyss of gloom. Was he supposed to feel pure happiness again? Was he allowed to get a second chance at life?

He wasn't sure.

Maybe.

"I'm meeting her for coffee tomorrow," he confessed quietly. "You know, to catch-up, talk things through."

Much to his dismay, Digg chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well I'd call that the first step, wouldn't you?"

Oliver rolled his eyes, clearing his throat. "We should head down to the foundry; we've got work to do."

"Whatever you say, boss."

He shot him a wry smile before they left the office, both of them ready to plunge into their other lives.

But maybe John was right.

Maybe he was doing the right thing.

If nothing else, meeting Felicity would at least offer him some kind of closure on that part of his life. Once he knew she was happy, that things worked out for her, that her life was good, then he could close that chapter and move on.

The only problem was that he knew he'd never move on from Felicity Smoak.

* * *

**So the plan is to throw in flashbacks of their relationship into each chapter while also dealing with the present-day situation between them. I wanted to stick to canon as much as I possibly could in that Oliver did have a short relationship with Laurel after Felicity left and still took Sara on the Gambit with him. Hopefully I'll explore that part in flashbacks at some point...if you guys would like me to! **

**Anywho, I hope you guys liked what you read and you want to read more of it! Please drop me a review and let me know what you thought - likes, dislikes, comments - I'd love to hear what you think :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there! I was blown away by the response this story received - thank you for reading, reviewing, following and favouriting! It means the world to know you guys were excited about it. Anywho, hope you like what you read :)**

**Alas, I do not own Arrow.**

* * *

_It took him three months to gather the nerve to ask her out._

_Three, long months where he admired her from afar, enchanted by her whole sense of being. To pinpoint what exactly pulled him under her trance would be an impossible feat; the simplest of actions – whether it be the little shove she gave her glasses when they slipped too far down her nose or the way she chewed her bottom lip when she tried to work out a problem – enthralled him. She was just so…different and unexpected and surprising, but in the tiniest of ways. Oliver believed that he could stare at her for hours and never get bored. He often wondered what it'd be like to lose himself in her blue depths, discovering and exploring and learning everything he could about her. They did say the eyes were the windows to the soul, right? He wanted to see if there was any truth in that._

_Being so out of touch with himself unnerved him though. Girls, and the object of getting girls, came almost naturally to him. Oliver could charm a wall if he tried hard enough; it practically oozed out of his pores. Somehow he just knew the right thing to say when the right time called for it – and he put it to good use in all his sixteen years of life. Of course, being the son of a billionaire helped too; once girls heard that nugget of information, they went out of their way to throw themselves at him, catching his attention in the most outlandish ways._

_Not that he was complaining or anything. The majority of the time he happily obliged them. If making out was a subject, he was definitely sporting an A. _

_But Felicity? He could barely manage a sentence with her before he felt the heat rise in his cheeks._

_It was just so…weird. But great, too. Weird and great all at the same time. _

_It turned out that Felicity was super smart and took a lot of AP classes, so the only class they shared with one another was English, which coincidentally was Oliver's best subject. He might not have been the brightest at math or science, but ask him to string a few sentences together and he wasn't half bad. _

_Yet the peril of only having one period together was that he rarely got to see her. Sure they acknowledged each other in the hallways and sometimes they'd talked briefly before class started, but because Felicity Smoak was extremely likable, it took her little to no time to make a band of friends and she _always _sat with them at lunch, leaving Oliver with very slight opportunity to work his magic on her._

_Or lack thereof when it came to her._

_But what really made his heart stutter to the point of lunacy was that every Wednesday and Friday, without fail, Felicity sat opposite him the library. _

_Opposite him._

_She could have sat anywhere she wanted; the library was the biggest section of the academy with seemingly endless seats so it's not like there was nowhere else to go._

_No, she _chose_ to sit facing him. _

_Such a trivial fact shouldn't have made him so happy. _

_So it was three, long months of her sitting in front of him, distracting him through the simplest of means, all the while unknowingly making him pine for her more. _

_All it took was for her to smile quickly one day when she caught him looking her way – again – for him to take the plunge. He was tackling math – yet again – and was getting pretty sick of how it kept beating him when, out of seemingly nowhere, his mouth in a complete disconnect with his brain, he blurted quietly, "Hey Felicity, can I ask you something?"_

_Her head shot up immediately, her eyes warm. "Sure. What's up?"_

_A list of possibilities rushed through his mind all along the same vein of, 'Will you go out with me?', but the words froze in his mouth as though they themselves had forgotten how they sounded, and instead something else entirely came out. "Why do you always sit here?"_

_Nothing would have made him happier than if a giant hole appeared in the ground and swallowed him up, sending him spiralling into some kind of dense oblivion where every embarrassing moment in his life would dissipate into a nothingness. What was he thinking?! He wanted to ask the girl out, not give her a reason to run away. _

_He closed his eyes at his own stupidity and waited for the shuffling that would tell him that she was packing up her stuff and leaving him to drown in his own foolishness. "Felicity, I didn't mean –"_

"_Someone told me this was the best seat in the house," she quipped back, her tone coloured in amusement. Oliver opened his eyes warily to meet the shy gaze of the blonde. Though her voice sounded confident, she looked just as unsure as he felt and that, somehow, made him like her even more. God, he was pathetic. "Why would I move?" She shrugged, a cute whole body movement. "Besides, you're a pretty good study partner – not that I thought you'd be a bad one, just that usually I like to work in the quiet, hence why I'm always in the library, and that usually means not sharing a table with someone or sitting right at the end of one in my own little world, but you've been surprisingly silent and you don't crumple papers or grind your teeth…oh God not that I thought you would it's just…3…2…1…"_

_Her rambles were adorable – and he loved them. "I'll make sure to put 'Doesn't crumple papers or grind teeth' on my resume. I think it'll really make me stand out."_

_A breathy laugh left her lips. Her very vibrant, full, kissable lips. "I'll be your reference."_

_He leaned forward on the desk as if ready to conspire. "I'll hold you to that."_

_They both fell silent for a few seconds; the sound of pages turning and the odd cough of a student were the only things to be heard. And maybe his heart pounding. Finally, she tilted her head to the side as if trying to figure him out. He adjusted his t-shirt self-consciously. "Are you okay?"_

_His brow furrowed. "Yeah, why?"_

_She spun her pen between her fingers. "You just look…I don't know, I thought you…you just a little distracted."_

"_Oh, yeah, uh it's just…this math homework. I can't seem to figure it out, that's all."_

_Felicity kept her eyes on him a little longer than usual, her mouth quirked ever so slightly. "Okay, well if you ever need help with it, you can ask me you know. I'm pretty good at math."_

_He beamed. "Thanks, Felicity." She turned her attention back to her own study, seeming satisfied, but the swooping in his stomach was relentless, driving him crazy. It was like it was doing it on purpose, compelling him to say something, anything. "Actually," he started, his throat dry, "there was something else I wanted to ask you."_

_Whether she was aware of it or not, her body mirrored his own, her arms sliding closer to his on the table. "I thought so," she said, visibly proud of herself. "What's on your mind?"_

_Now or never. _

_He took a deep breath, letting the air purify his lungs. "I was wondering, I don't know, if maybe…you would or you'd like to…wow, this is so much harder than I thought."_

"_Oliver…what's wrong?"_

"_Do you…do you wanna hang out sometime? Like, after school someday? Or even on the weekend?" Great. Now he was the one rambling._

"_Hang out?" she asked, perplexed._

_In an attempt to calm his nerves, he tapped his fingers on his book, the action itself less subtle than he had hoped. "Yeah…like a…sort of like a date?"_

_Her eyes widened. "A date? You're asking me out?"_

"_Yeah?" he affirmed, slouching back into his chair, nervous. In all his preoccupation with actually asking her out, he hadn't programmed in the thought that she might reject him. Now he was sweating for a whole other reason. Heartbreak was something he'd skirted around a few times in his short romantic history but he was certain that if Felicity Smoak turned him down, he'd experience it on a whole new level. Even the idea of her saying no made his heart twist in all sorts of unnatural ways. _

_Her reply was no more than the gentlest of whispers, "But you hardly know me?"_

"_Isn't that the point of a date - to get to know someone better?" he posed lightly, keeping a tight smile in check. _

"_But I could be anybody," she proclaimed a little too loudly, causing a number of heads to turn. Scrunching her shoulders, she whispered again, "I could be a serial killer or a jewel thief…or a really horrible person."_

_Even her rationalizing was charming. _

"_Are you a serial killer or a jewel thief?"_

"_Well, no but-"_

"_Or a really horrible person? Because from what I've seen, you're the opposite."_

_She narrowed her eyes. "Too nice for my own good?"_

_His attempts at supressing a chuckle failed miserably but he didn't care if he disrupted the whole library – not when he was gazing at her. "I think you're someone I really want to spend time with outside of this library."_

_Her eyebrows hiked, clearly taken aback. "Really? I mean…are you sure?"_

"_Felicity, I am more than sure."_

_Waiting for her answer felt like an eternity; every so often her mouth would open but then she'd close it just as quickly, her hands wringing her pen dramatically as though she was pondering a serious life choice. Yet he was patient, ducking his head so that she'd meet his eyes and offering her a grin when she looked his way. He prayed she thought he was being adorable and not pushy. "Okay," she declared suddenly, her lips curling up and eyes brightening so much they appeared to be sparkling under the light. "I'd like that."_

_The excited spurt of breath that exploded from him wasn't planned, nor was it his finest moment, since he was about a second away from hopping out of his seat, but it was exceedingly difficult to contain his elation at a single world – four letters that were usually so bland but now held such promise. _

_He swore he could feel the shift in the atmosphere, a change that had welcomed itself into his world, settling around them like a comforting blanket. _

"_Great. Uh, how about Saturday?"_

"_Yeah, Saturday works for me."_

_Their eyes met again and Oliver winked, feeling more like himself now that he was sure she sort of, kinda liked him too. Her giggle was soft and musical and so damn cute; if he didn't comprehend just how much trouble he was in beforehand, he definitely did now. _

* * *

"_You finally asked her out?!" Tommy exclaimed in the car on the way home, his outburst so abrupt that the vehicle swerved into the other lane for a second longer than what was deemed safe. _

"_Yes, but if you keep driving like this I won't live to see it happen." Oliver reached over and straightened the steering wheel. _

_For Tommy's sixteenth birthday his dad bought him his first car – a slick Lamborghini to be exact. It was the dream car; Oliver distinctly remembered drooling over the bodywork when he clapped eyes on it for the first time. Living a privileged life meant that wanting for something wasn't something he was used to, but when he heard that sweet engine rev for the first time, Oliver wanted that car so bad. So when he turned sixteen, his parents threw him the keys to a brand new Porsche. How could he complain about that?_

_The only problem was that Tommy wasn't exactly the best driver. He passed his test, sure, but to what extent the instructor let the test slide because of the Merlyn connection he wasn't sure. There was no way Oliver would have passed him anyway. _

_At least he was finally getting better._

_Kind of._

"_I got it, I got it," he assured, placing both hands back on the wheel and studying the road with great intent. "It's about time, man. For a second there I thought you were losing your touch."_

"_So did I," he agreed, resting his elbow on the door so that his head could fall into his hand. "I've never been so nervous around a girl before."_

_Tommy pressed a little too hard on the accelerator and the car jolted forward, making all sorts of horrible sounds that no engine should make. His hand grappled with the stick shift until the ride smoothed out and Oliver couldn't help but snicker at the pinched expression plastered on his best friend's face. "Stop laughing," he said petulantly, "I'm still getting the hang of this." He remained in deep concentration as he attempted to merge. "So what exactly is it about this girl that has you so…off your game?"_

"_I'm not off my game; I was just…not myself."_

_Tommy shot him a dubious look._

_Oliver pointed out the windscreen. "Eyes on the road, Merlyn."_

"_Come on, Ollie, spill. You weren't even nervous when you asked Laurel to that stupid dance. Remember Laurel Lance? The girl you've been practically crushing on since first grade? Brunette with a piercing glare? What makes this girl so different?"_

_He shrugged. "I knew Laurel liked me; she made that pretty obvious. So it wasn't hard to ask her. But going to the dance with her wasn't such a good idea. Making out with her on the other hand was." Tommy chortled, pounding knuckles with his. "But Felicity…she's not just some girl, you know? I don't know what it is but she's just so interesting - she makes me want to know everything about her. And she babbles, like, a lot and it's the just the cutest thing. And then there's the fact that she's super smart; I mean, she takes like four AP classes."_

_His best friend whistled, his head shaking as he drove. "Dude you have it so bad. If I didn't know better I think you'd be turning into a one-woman-kind-of-guy." Oliver rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics. That was Tommy for you. "Now personally I don't see the appeal – why settle down when there's still so much out there to see…and do…" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "but if this is the path you want to go down then I, as your loyal and ultimately cooler best friend, will respect and support you because that is the kind of guy I am."_

"_Gee, thanks buddy," he laughed, smacking his shoulder playfully. _

"_Hey no hitting while I'm driving. You wanna stay alive for your date with the girl of your dreams, right? One word of advice though?"_

_Oliver rested his head against the window, peering back at his friend who had turned deathly serious all of a sudden. _

"_You might wanna think about doing something with that hair of yours. I mean, it's doing that rogue surfer thing that just does nothing for you."_

_Shaking his head, Oliver vibrated with laughter, thankful that he had someone like Tommy in his life._

* * *

Oliver had endured a lot of injury over the years but the one day he wanted to be of full of energy, his whole body ached from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. The slightest of movements made ligaments cry, tendons wail, muscles tighten, and bones scrape – even frowning caused him discomfort.

Just great.

Since the Undertaking there'd been an influx of criminal activity around the city with citizens going around and taking the law into their own hands, acting out purely because they could; reckless individuals who cared little for the repercussions of their actions, their purpose lost amongst the chaos and threatening the safety of others. The city needed the Hood now more than ever - and Oliver was, evidently, paying the price.

The missions seemed to get more and more dangerous; the stakes higher than ever before. Sometimes when he got back to the foundry, he just stood there in the dark, letting his breath move in and out of his lungs easily as he waited for the adrenaline to subside. The quiet stilled his raucous energy, but it was the aftermath, when everything had settled down, that really packed a punch. The 'what if?' game was a staple of his life at this point: what if he didn't move quick enough? What if his bow didn't meet its target? What if he lost concentration for just a breath of a second?

But the question always remained: _did he really care?_

Sometimes he did.

Sometimes he didn't.

He often wondered when thoughts like that crept into his psyche, when it became so normal for him to have this debate with himself, when the thought of life or death was so casually resting in his mind.

"Heading out?" Thea's voice asked from behind him, its sound diffusing the darkness for now.

Oliver turned from the mirror, appraising her affectionately. "Nothing gets past you, Speedy."

She stepped into his room, arms swinging so freely that her bracelets cracked off one another roughly, making her entrance far louder than necessary. Thea was constantly going through fads and trends, though in fairness what fifteen-year-old girl wasn't, and apparently loading your arm with as many bracelets as physically possible was _all_ the rage.

"So who is she?" she drawled, platooning herself onto his bed.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh come on, Ollie. You're wearing the expensive cologne that you only wear to fancy dinners that makes you smell all important and successful _and_ you've spent the past fifteen minutes fixing your hair even though there's not much you can do with hair like that." She pointed idly at his head with a grin. "Remember when you hair was longer and it used to get in your eyes?"

"How could I forget? Tommy made fun of it all the time." A sharp pang at the mention of his friend's name rocketed through his chest and he struggled to hide the wince. If his little sister noticed, she didn't show it.

Thea pushed herself into a seating position, one of her legs tucked under her. "So tell me, who's the girl? Don't act all dumb, I'm not a little kid anymore."

Oliver sighed and crossed over to the bed to collect his jacket that sat next to her. "No you're not," he agreed sadly.

"And don't get all pouty on me either," she warned good-naturedly, leaning over to slap his arm.

It was hard to see Thea so much older, so much more independent, so much more unpredictable. She was this ball of energy, a pumped up life force akin to a hurricane; she'd whirl in, make her mark and spin out in leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. He might have been home two years but it struck him daily how different she was and how he had missed crucial years of her life that he'd never get back. When he left, she was a kid who dreamed of owning a pony and living in a candy store; when he returned, she was more occupied with boys and clothes and her phone. The transition from treating her as a kid to treating her as a teenager was not a smooth one to say the least.

A deep breath calmed his already erratic nerves and he slinked into the jacket. "Do you remember Felicity Smoak?" he asked offhandedly.

Oh, that piqued her interest. The girl straightened immediately, eyes incredulous. "Are you kidding? Of course I do! She was like a big sister to me! That's who you're going to see? She's back in Staring?"

He nodded self-consciously, pursing his lips. "Yeah, she is."

"Wow," she breathed. "You know, I always thought you two would be together forever, but then she moved to Europe and you became a jerk so that put an end to that plan." Well he could hardly argue with that assessment. Her eyes turned up toward the ceiling in contemplation, her bottom lip jutting out. "Gosh I haven't seen her since…well, since your funeral. I can't believe she's back."

He stilled, the words pressing pause on his life. "What…what did you say?"

"I just meant I thought she'd left Starling for good."

"No, before that," he emphasised as he failed miserably to feign nonchalance. Always one to fidget, Oliver shuffled from one foot to the other, never finding a comfortable place to rest. It was such a tell for him – and definitely something he needed to work on considering the line of business he was in.

Suddenly his sister's eyes softened in understanding. "Oh, sorry Ollie, I – I guess I just forgot." In a move that made her look older and wiser than her mere fifteen years, she caught his hand with her own. "Did you really think she'd miss your funeral? Look, you guys might have broken up and even though I don't really know what happened between the two of you, I know that you loved her and that she felt the same. There was no way she'd miss something like that."

"But she was in London…she had left…?"

"She came back for the weekend," Thea filled in the blanks, pulsing his hand once for good measure. "Just showed up at our door the day before the ceremony."

It shouldn't have surprised him really – Felicity had always been remarkable in more ways than he count, so maybe it shouldn't have caught him off-guard to discover that she had made it her business to drop everything and come home for him, and yet he felt something he couldn't fully comprehend wash over him. It was like knowing what something meant without being able to describe it.

"Ollie," her voice sliced through his daze, "I think it's great you get to see her again. Who knows, maybe you two were supposed to end up together. I, for one, think it's romantic; two lost souls finding their way back to one another." She was also been going through a watch-as-many-rom-coms-as-humanly-possible phase. "Just don't blow again this time, hey?"

An easy chuckle rumbled from him. "I promise I'll try."

"Good. Now hurry up or else you're gonna be late." She shooed him away, wafting her arms dramatically in his direction. With a smirk, Oliver dropped down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Tell her I said hi."

"You got it, Speedy."

"To be fair, I think she always liked me better anyways."

Oliver couldn't hide his amusement - she was just what he needed at that moment.

* * *

For possibly the first time in his life, Oliver was early to the café. How exactly he managed that, he didn't know but there was no way he was going to question it, so instead of pondering over the symbolism and reading too much into pointless signs, he just accepted it. Life was easier that way. In a weird way he felt exposed; almost as if every person he encountered looked at him a second longer than they usually would. Paranoia had been a close friend of his for a long time now, but this was more of a self-conscious nervous concoction that he wasn't used to.

Taking the initiative, he ordered two coffees and prayed that Felicity took hers the same way she used to all those years ago. It was long-shot, but you couldn't blame a guy for trying. Back in high school, she had an obsession with coffee; at one point, she enjoyed going to different coffee houses just so she could try whatever they had on sale. Oliver must have seen the inside of every establishment that served the beverage in Starling – not that he ever complained though. She was always so impassioned about it that he didn't have the heart to tell her that he hated the taste of it.

Since returning from the island he had changed his outlook though; it turned out that it was the only thing that kept him alert through the toughest of days.

He found an empty table facing the window and waited, doing his best to keep himself occupied. The rustling of the sugar packet proved rather soothing. Soon enough, her frame passed by the window, her high ponytail bobbing as she walked. She was on time of course. That simple fact alone was comforting; it was nice to know that some things never changed.

Oliver waved to grab her attention, basking in the knowledge that no matter what happened after this, at least he got to see her again. Seeing her in the flesh – the striking blue of her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the warmth in her smile – was so much better than pathetically staring at the picture he used to carry of her in his wallet. It wasn't an image of anything special really, it was more a spur of the moment quick snap of them when they were in the car one day, but it kept permanent residence behind his credit card in his leather wallet until the island swallowed up every last bit of his life. When he couldn't sleep at night, and the cold, dense air would wrap around him, he'd sit up and think about his family, especially Thea, Tommy, and Felicity. A trifecta of pain one might say.

"Hey," she greeted, standing away from him. Her face conveyed the same sense of disbelief it had the previous day, her mind still trying to piece it all together.

"Hi."

He sat and she stood, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Oliver cracked first. "Sit, please, you're making me nervous," he joked, pulling out the stool next to him. Felicity, biting her lip in deliberation, eyed the seat warily as though it was it some kind of dangerous animal. He gestured to it again, entertained by her dilemma. He'd wait all day if he had to. Eventually she gave in and hopped onto it, disposing of her scarf and coat and draping them over the table. "I got you a coffee," he said after a beat. "It's still pretty hot."

"You remember how I take it?" she asked curiously, bringing the mug close so close to her nose that her glasses steamed up.

"I remember a lot of things."

She took a sip. "Always full of surprises, aren't you?" she mused, sighing contently at the taste. Her head nodded to his drink. "Since when do you drink coffee anyway?"

"What do you mean?" He spun his cup absentmindedly, letting its warmth mollify him.

"Come on, Oliver; you used to _hate _coffee."

A warbled chortle burst out of him. "Wait, you knew?"

"I think the pained expressions and lack of enthusiasm pretty much gave you away right from the start," she explained, taking another sip.

Oliver grinned. "And you still dragged me around the city despite all that?"

"First of all, dragging implies that you didn't want to go – and from what I can remember, you never once complained so don't try pulling that card now, and secondly, you still made me go to all those Queen family functions even though you knew how much I hated having to dress up and talk to all those spoiled brats so really you have no reason to argue." Felicity cringed once she had finished, fixing her gaze onto the wood patterns on the table, the façade now back in place.

It struck him how easy it was to be around her even now. A quick ramble from her and a joke and it was as if no time had passed at all.

Unfortunately, too much time had passed.

"I missed hearing you babble," he admitted softly, spinning his cup again. "I – I missed yo-"

"Oliver, don't," she interjected, her voice so small, nearly lost in the swell of background noise. All around them people were meeting up and chatting and exchanging happy stories and here they were, two disconnected people searching for…something. A missing link, perhaps. "Please don't do this."

Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "You're right; I'm sorry. Uh, how…how did your interview go?" As far as subject changes went, he assumed that was pretty safe. It was better than him finishing off his thoughts. _I missed you. Did you miss me? Do you still hate me?_

"Really? You want to know?"

Oliver nodded.

"Well it went pretty good. More than good, actually; I got the job. I start Monday."

"That's great, Felicity. I knew you would. Someone with your credentials can't be passed up."

She snapped her head to the side, regarding him seriously. "You didn't have anything to do with me getting the job, did you? Because if you did, Oliver, that's so not cool. I mean, I know you only mean well but it doesn't really stand to me if the CEO puts in a good word for me and it could get people talking and I am perfectly capable of getting jobs on my own so you don't have to-" She moved her hands around as she spoke, the light illuminating her sky blue nail polish as she made weird patterns in the sky.

"_Felicity_," he cut in, leaning closer to her, "I didn't say a word."

Her hands fell down onto her lap. "You didn't?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Well…why not?" She spied him suspiciously.

"What?"

"I don't mean _why didn't you say anything_, I mean what made you _not _say anything – ugh, even when I'm trying to make sense, I'm not."

He mulled it over for a minute and then shrugged. "I knew you wouldn't want me to," he answered simply.

"Simple as that, huh?"

"Simple as that."

It was only then when she let out a long breath that he realized how close they were sitting to one another. Her breath tickled his face, his chest tightening at the feathery touch. Felicity, too, at the same time, noticed and began to move away but something caught her eye, and her gaze melted, her whole demeanour changing rapidly.

Oliver stiffened as her hand came up to cradle the side of his face. It was like she was transfixed, not even aware of what she was doing. It was only when her thumb brushed across the area under his eye that he realized what had her so rapt. His scar. One of the tiniest ones he had, actually. He had so many that they generally all meshed into one, with only a handful distinguishable.

Her touch ignited his skin, his eyes falling shut for the shortest of instances.

"They said your body was 20% scar tissue but I never…" she mumbled, her voice low like a hum, "I never…let myself think of it." Her thumb padded across the imperfection again.

"I'm sorry."

It was a prayer; a promise breathed into the void, pouring out of his entire self.

The silence that followed was so long Oliver thought she didn't hear him. An eternity could have passed for all he knew; he was too focused on her touch and the charge between them.

Yet her hand slipped away too soon, her frame backing away from him. "I don't want you to be sorry."

"But I am," he offered, arms open. Underneath it all, he knew the real reason he wanted to meet Felicity: he wanted the chance to apologize. Was it selfish of him? He wasn't sure. All he knew is that he had to say it, had to let her know that he regretted the way it all ended, had to just be honest with her.

"For what Oliver?" she asked, exasperated. "Because if you're apologizing for everything that you went through, then don't. None of that was your fault. I can't even imagine what you went through, and I'm not going to ask you about it because I know you and I know you don't want to talk about it. And that's okay. You don't have to." He moved to speak but she raised both of her hands defiantly, silencing him for now. "And if you're apologizing for…us, I don't want to hear it either. We were just kids then. I've had a lot of time to think about it and to be honest, I'm sick of thinking about it. It feels like it was a whole other life ago and I guess in your case it was. So just…just don't okay?"

"Felicity…" If he couldn't apologize, what could he do? How could it make it better? After all, that had been his mantra since he'd come back – to right wrongs and fight injustice and hopefully better himself in the process. He just wanted to make everything better again.

The curl of her lips into a pained smile only served to perturb him more. "Why did you want to meet me, Oliver?" she questioned, gesturing around them to the dizzying activity of the everyday. Suddenly, it felt as though they were outsiders; observers instead of participants.

"Why did you come?" he countered.

Her chin dipped, a sigh tripping from her. "I should have known you'd answer a question with a question. You always did like to do that." Slowly, she inched over to him again, gripping his hands in hers. "I came because I…seeing you yesterday, brought back a lot of memories and feelings that I had put away a long time ago; I never really knew how I would react if I saw you again and it sort of frightened me as soon as I did. I know that you're not okay, and I wouldn't expect you to be, but I just needed to _see _it for myself. Part of me wants to know everything that happened to you because I've lived with these questions for so long, but another part of me doesn't, and it's selfish of me to admit, because I know that it'll hurt. And just the thought of something so terrible happening to you…" she trailed off shaking her head. "The fact is I still care about you – even when you're not popping back up in my life randomly, and I probably always will. And to be honest, maybe subconsciously I chose to come back to Starling City because of you; once I saw the job opening at QC, I had to at least apply. Even just being back in this city felt like coming home. I just…I don't know." She shrugged, settling her stare onto their hands. Oliver held his breath, noting the tears that had begun forming in her eyes. "And that's the thing about me - I hate not knowing things. I hate mysteries. I hate questions that seemingly have no answers and you, Oliver, left so many questions unanswered in my life. Why did you break my heart? Why did you have to get on that stupid boat? How could you do something so jerky as bringing Laurel's sister with you? Did you even care about me? About Laurel? Did you die? How did you die? Did you feel pain? Did you suffer?"

She was on a roll now, her hands letting go of his to jab the air every time she finished a question. Felicity's eyes never landed on him; she was lost in a world of her own, spilling everything she had kept bottled up for the past seven years.

"So you came here for answers," he surmised, the weight of guilt plundering him from the inside out.

Stormy blues searched his, her face drawn with emotion. "I thought you were dead, Oliver. _Dead_. I thought you weren't coming back - and I hated you for it. I hated the way we left things, and I hated the way you just moved on without a second thought and I hated the way you used your dad's boat as a way of running away from responsibility…and I hated the way I cared about what happened to you. I was eighteen – just a kid. We both were. We jumped too quickly and made promises we should have known we couldn't keep. We were irrational and completely unrealistic, caught up in every moment. And I told myself that every day after we broke up. And then I heard that the Gambit went down." She swallowed hard, burying her chin into her shoulder. "I cried for days, scrambling for any information I could get, looking up as many conspiracy theories as humanly possible, and just praying that you had been handed a miracle. That you had somehow survived it and were trying to get back home. But I _hated _caring about you because it hurt _so _much. I thought my heart would never heal, Oliver."

The muscle in his jaw flexed, every single emotion flooding through his system. "But you went to my funeral," he supplied thickly.

Felicity's depths studied him. "I had to say goodbye," she said with a sniff.

Though it didn't seem like the right time to make any kind of move, Oliver swiped away at a loose tear on her face, letting his fingers rest on her cheek for a moment. Rather than pulling away as he'd expected, the blonde leaned into the pressure.

"There wasn't a day on that island when I didn't think about you," he confessed solemnly.

Felicity chuckled humourlessly. "Do you think that somehow makes it better, Oliver? That you can just say that and it somehow fixes us? It doesn't. You're the one that broke us. Instead of thinking about me, you should have been thinking about Laurel – or even Sara," she snapped petulantly, freeing her face from his hold and leaving his hand grasping at air.

"I was an idiot, I know. God, Felicity I know that, trust me. I was young and dumb and I acted out because I was hurting. Does it excuse everything I did? No, but that's just…" he paused, angered by his inarticulacy, "it didn't mean anything. Nothing I did after you meant anything."

"Nothing you did _after_ me meant anything? What about _when _you were with me, huh?"

Oliver closed his eyes, fighting the dull pound in his head. "It was a mistake."

"Yeah, a big one." The woman rose to her feet, collecting her jacket and scarf hastily and throwing them over her arm. "And I'm beginning to think coming here was a mistake, too."

"Felicity, please." He stood as well, catching her elbow. "Please don't leave it like this. _Please don't go_."

Her hand rifled through her ponytail, her body shaking. "Why? We both know you won't follow me."

The words hung ominously in the air between them, smothering them with the weight of the past.

Without hesitation, Oliver engulfed her in an all-consuming hug, letting his actions do the talking instead of his words. She fought him, arms pushing and shoving against his chest, tears soaking through his shirt until she finally gave in, falling into him in one final movement. Her ear rested against his heart as if she needed the confirmation that it was still there and beating.

He didn't care if people were staring, he didn't care that all of his muscles ached, he didn't care that there was still so much to say and so much to do; he only cared about the woman in his arms. The woman that held his heart in her hands. The woman that had even through the minutest of things, dappled light into an otherwise darkened soul.

"Let me just say I'm sorry," he implored with trepidation, "because I am. You can reject it all you want but I am sorry, Felicity."

"Sometimes it's just a little too late, Oliver."

"But not all the time."

"No," she whispered into his shirt. "Not all the time." A few beats passed with them just embracing, the rest of the world passing by as normal, and then, "I still can't believe you're alive. I mean, I don't think I ever really thought you were gone but I never thought I'd see you again."

"I know. Me neither."

She parted with him just enough so that she could look him straight in the eye. "Look, I think…I think I should go."

The words stung a little, but Oliver noted the distinct lack of finality in them. "Where does this leave us?" he asked nervously. "Friends?"

"I don't know yet. I think I need time to…process everything."

"How much time?"

"However long it takes." She fixed her glasses. "You know, you never told me why you wanted to see me."

"Is it so wrong to want to see someone who's important to you?"

A slight nod of understanding made his stomach knot, his arms itching to pull her flush to him again.

Felicity, fully disentangling herself from him, took a step back, regarding him once more. "See you around, Oliver." And then she backed away puffy-eyed and red-faced and left, with her scarf trailing the ground behind her. Something about that scene invited a small smile from him.

"Bye, Felicity," he whispered into the empty space in front of him.

What was ahead for them stayed a mystery, but he revelled in the fact that at least they had a start.

That was better than nothing.

* * *

**Okay I'm gonna be honest - that last scene was so incredibly difficult to write. It could have gone so many different ways and it definitely took a few twists and turns before it ended up like that. It just felt so important and I didn't want to let the story down by not delving into the emotional web they're stuck in. I wanted the scene to feel heavy, like there was this weight constantly on them and to be honest, I have no idea if I achieved that or not lol. My worst fear is that they're too OOC even for this AU where they already are quite different from their respective characters. But anyway that's just me babbling about it because I'm nervous to hear what you all think haha please do drop me a review because I would really love to hear your comments on it all :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all! The response to this story has been amazing - thank you for reading, reviewing, following, favouriting and enjoying! Sorry it took me a little longer to get this chapter up; life got pretty busy all of a sudden. Anywho, I hope you like what you read! I'm having so much fun writing for these two :)**

**Alas, I do not own Arrow.**

* * *

It had been a month since Oliver had seen Felicity at the café.

Thirty days of trying to give her space, of trying to carry on as if everything was normal, of trying not to let his heart run away from him again. It beat with more purpose now than he thought imaginable, every pump a vow that something better was out there for him. If only he let himself believe that.

She said she needed time - and he could do that. He'd give her anything she needed; the promise of _something _in the end enough to keep him ticking on. The only thing about time was that it was flexible; bending and shaping so that one day it could fly by, scenes and moments speeding by in the blink of an eye, and the next it could drag to the point where it seems as though it stands still.

Oliver's life was a fine balance of the two. His night activities kept his mind active and off her for a while with fending off hardened criminals pretty much the only thing he could truly focus on, but the days sputtered on in pieces and chunks and endless board meetings that seemed to always hark down to figures and financial plans.

Just another one of those perks of being CEO…

It was during the day when, outside of his own accord, his thoughts drifted to her as if they had separated themselves from every other one crowded in his mind and floated off into a world of their own - their own sliver of peace away from the chaos that defined his life.

It would be so easy to get in the elevator and go down eighteen floors to see her; all it would take was a press of a button and there she'd be probably dressed in something colourful, her hair strung high in a ponytail, glasses teetering on the bridge of her nose and a pen sandwiched between her teeth. Even the image of her tapping furiously on the keys at her computer drew a smile from him. It was those little quirks of hers that enraptured him the very first time he met her and he was glad to learn that those hadn't faded over time.

Yet he couldn't do it. The confliction, the sheer confusion of feelings, was too great to bear. He had seen it written all over her face, shimmering in her eyes when she looked back at him, as though years of hardships and anger and hatred burned through every wall he had erected and singed his core – the only part of him left untainted by his ordeal, the part touched solely by his love for her. The betrayal weighed heavily on her to this day like it physically affected her every movement and he sunk himself into a pool of self-frustration knowing that while he was certainly not the only cause of it, he contributed enough to her strain.

But when he held her…everything fell away.

And he felt that relief seep through her too, igniting all of his nerves at once. Feelings like that sparked hope though, and he understood that he couldn't jump ahead and envision something that possibly could never happen for him - nothing hurt more than the cruel taste of disappointment; that plunging feeling that tinted everything with shades of bleak.

"Still daydreamin' about Blondie?"

Oliver shook his head, rattling around the musings as he focused back on his friend and partner who was giving him a rather disapproving look. "Sorry, I was…someplace else."

The foundry was eerily quiet; the whirring from the computer system the only noise to be heard apart from the squeak of the chair against the ground.

Diggle levelled him with one look, his eyebrow quirked. "You know Oliver you're always someplace else these days. Why don't you just go and see her? It'd make my job a hell of a lot easier."

Oh he did not want to talk about this. He appreciated that John was only merely voicing his own questions and yes, maybe his focus could have been a little sharper, but he wasn't allowing it to mess with his job in the city. That was something he was adamant about the moment he laid eyes on her again; his mission couldn't afford to be compromised by his feelings – he couldn't afford to be reckless anymore, not when he had another reason to fight.

"She said she needed space – I can't just go barging down to the IT department; she'll never talk to me again." A long drawn sigh escaped his lips and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. "And her name's Felicity," he added as an afterthought, letting the distaste for the nickname shine through his pinched features.

"I'm not talking about going down there and laying all your feelings on the table because, frankly, that'd only make your situation worse." Digg chuckled as if picturing the scene. Oliver rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about going down there and asking her for help."

The man jerked upright, confused. "Help?" he echoed.

"With this…" Digg pointed to bullet-ridden laptop on the desk, "I'm not too bad with computers but man, I've been at this for days and I can't recover anything. And I know you can't because I saw you almost fling it across the room yesterday so don't try to spin that crap with me." He nudged Oliver's knee, forcing him to look at him. "I'm not saying you should tell her who you really are but if she's half as good as you've made her out to be, then we really need her help. Otherwise we're screwed. Plus, it'd give you an_ actual_ reason to talk to her which can't hurt."

As if crime being at an all-time high wasn't already enough for him to deal with, Hood copycats had begun terrorizing the city on a fairly regular basis. They travelled in a pack, dropping in and out of all kinds of social events, targeting high profile members of Starling and killing innocents in the process. They claimed to be rectifying wrongs, absolving the city of evil, ridding their neighbourhoods of those they deemed ignorant to the growing plight of the people in the wake of the Undertaking, and had decided that action – nonsensically violence and murder to be exact – was the only way to achieve it. The Hood was hardly a favourite around town and this new band of vigilantes served only to add fuel to the fire. However, finding them wasn't proving so easy and neither was figuring who was next on their hit list.

It was a miracle they got the laptop in the first place. On the tail of a police lead, Oliver stumbled across what appeared to be, or well what at least used to be, their base for operation. A shoot-out ensued once they caught wind of his presence which resulted in the majority of them fleeing the scene, leaving a shot-up laptop and several fatalities in their wake. By the time the cops showed up, all evidence of them had long gone aside from the bodies slumped on the ground. They were evidently clever enough to move their headquarters elsewhere following the showdown leaving the SCPD back at square one, but he and Digg had something to work with: one bullet-ridden laptop.

If only they could get it to work.

Oliver rose to his feet, his back to the man as he rolled his shoulders, his jaw ticking in chagrin. "I'm not dragging her into this," he ground out, the harsh sound of his words reverberating around him. "She can't be touched by what I do. I've already done enough to her."

"So, _what_, you're just gonna leave out this teeny tiny detail of your life if and when you reconnect? Sounds like a solid foundation to build your relationship on," he scoffed. "If that's what you want then that's fine, Oliver; you're a big boy, you don't need anyone telling you what you should or shouldn't do. But look man, this girl has got some hold over you – maybe it's just guilt, I don't know – but it's eating away at you. It won't disappear until you make some kind of move. And if you don't know what to do yet, then don't tell her anything about who you really are; it's your secret to tell and it has the potential to change everything about the way we operate so I understand your reluctance, I do." The man circled around Oliver so that he was facing him, his hands raised in the air in surrender. "All I'm saying though is that you have to start thinking like the Hood instead of Oliver Queen, the lovesick boy. What would the Hood do right now?" Oliver dropped his stare. "He'd try damn hard to get answers," Diggle filled in for him. "If this laptop has clues as who their next target is, then we have to everything we can to get it to work. Think about that."

Oliver opened his mouth to retort, to argue, but all that came out was a quiet plea, "Digg…"

Moments of silence passed between them until his partner finally sighed, the sound heavy. Yet understanding hung in his eyes. "I'll keep trying," he said, clapping his shoulder as he moved past him back to the desk.

Oliver closed his eyes and wished that life was simpler, that there was some kind of manual he could read that would offer him options or answers or directions, that some infinite wisdom would somehow be bestowed on him so that he could make the right choices, the right decisions, know the right paths to take. Sometimes he felt like he was walking around blind; looking but not really seeing.

But this was the life he chose. This was the life he led. And it was filled with a darkness so intense that even he was perturbed by it.

Dragging Felicity into the grim reality of what he did day in, day out, couldn't work. What he did was dangerous and anyone in his orbit could get hurt. He wouldn't let that happen – _no_, he _couldn't _let that happen.

From behind him, Diggle spoke up again as if reading his train of thought. "Oliver, it's okay to be afraid you know. You don't have to have all the answers and you definitely don't have to pretend like you have it all together all the time."

Oliver spun around, arms outstretched. "I can't just let her into this part of my life! She'll never…" he trailed off, pursing his lips. "She'll never look at me the same way again."

"Like I said, you don't have to tell her that you go around wearing a green hood and shooting arrows," he reiterated. "But I've told you before and I'll tell you again: what you do, Oliver, is good. I know you don't believe that and you don't see it, but it's the truth. Those copycats? What they do is wrong. You're not on some crazy vengeance crusade; you're on a mission to save your city. Some might call that noble; others might even call it heroic." Resting an arm on the desk, he looked up at him knowingly. "You know, sometimes it's easy to get carried away with the dark thoughts in your head – trust me, I know them well; but there comes a certain point in life when you can't let your past define your future. Oliver I don't know what exactly happened to you during those five years. What I do know is that you're a warrior and a survivor and you got a good heart to do what's right – don't let the island consume who you really are. Don't let it taint everything good in your life. _Don't let it inside your head._"

"That's easier said than done."

Digg took the computer in his hands and offered it to him. "Well maybe it's time you started trying."

He scrutinized his friend as he gathered the object in his arms. A sly smile broke through his usual stoic expression. "All that just because you don't want to spend any more time working on this?"

The man chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Just offering my sage advice, that's all."

Oliver nodded, laughing once before turning serious again. "If I do this, if I ask for her help, I do it my way. I decide what she knows, what she doesn't know. I don't want to take any chances with her, Digg. I can't."

"You got it, boss."

* * *

_Dates and the whole object of dating usually came easy to Oliver. _

_Most of the time all he had to do was smile and look mildly interested in what they were saying and the girls were under his spell. And it wasn't really an ego thing; all his life, he'd been lavished with attention and told he was handsome and that he'd amount to great things so by the time he reached his teens he'd come to expect it really. As Tommy would say, he could have his choice of any girl in school – and he knew that. Not many of them played hard to get and those who did, he wasn't interested enough to pursue. He preferred it when they kind of just fell into his lap. Sometimes literally. _

_The only exception to that was Laurel Lance but one date with her was enough to crush the dream of her. Laurel was driven, ambitious, studious and serious – too serious for Oliver. She had a plan, she had goals and she had maps to get there. 'Pressure' was the word he associated with her; being around Laurel already made him feel like a lesser person. She had pre-conceived notions of who Oliver could be, of what he was capable of. All he wanted to do was go to the dance and then maybe drive somewhere remote and quiet, just the two of them - a speech about his future and prospects wasn't part of the plan. She just…wasn't his right fit._

_Besides that, he considered himself quite skilful when it came to taking girls out._

_Yet it appeared that on his way to pick up Felicity Smoak for their date, his usual confidence had tossed itself out the car window along with his cool collect. His palms were clammy, his shirt was just that little too tight across his chest, his stomach was doing all sorts of swooping movements; he was a nervous wreck. _

_And as he stood awkwardly in front of her house, his hand hovering in the air after he knocked on the door, he felt completely out of his depth. Oliver wasn't one to buckle under anxiety, but even he began to question himself as he waited for her to appear. It was all so new to him, so frightening._

_It was also sort of exciting, too. Unexpected and unpredictable. For what almost felt like the first time ever, he had no idea how this date was going to go - and something about that was refreshing. _

_He could have chalked his nerves down to the fact that he hadn't been on a date in a couple of months, but deep down he knew it was because he was going out with a girl he could potentially more than like. It was ridiculous to think a girl could have such a hold on him, yet he relished in the thought, loving the light, floaty feel when he thought of her. Though not entirely sure what he was feeling, he knew that he didn't want it to go away._

_Truth be told, the nerves were there to remind him that he had something to lose if he were to screw up. He didn't want to blow this chance; whatever was between them – and he wasn't imagining it, there was definitely something there – was something worth exploring. But it was also something that could explode spectacularly in his face. He was a screw-up; that, he knew all too well. But this chance, this opportunity, this girl…he couldn't mess it up. _

_Taking his best friend's advice, he actually did something with his hair so that it stayed out of his eyes, but while he waited for her he couldn't stop himself from playing with it, tossing errant locks to and fro, never happy with how it sat. Thoughts of self-doubt swirled menacingly through his mind, distracting him from reality. It wasn't until he heard her voice that he realized she had answered the door._

"_Oliver?" She sounded concerned. He wondered how long she had been calling his name. _

_He snapped his eyes to hers, a deep exhale leaving his body. "What? Oh, uh…sorry, I was lost in my own little world there." He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Hi."_

"_Hi," she smiled, her eyes brightening. _

_It was only then that he really looked at her, his gaze soft. Felicity was easily one of the prettiest girls in his class and he was certain that lots of people noticed that, but when she stood there in front of him just in a simple top and jean shorts with her hair flowing over her shoulders, she was beautiful. _

_And that was the first time Oliver had ever used that word to describe a girl. _

_The realization made his stomach dip in that good way it did every time he saw her. _

"_You look…wow." If only he could express himself eloquently…_

_Felicity blushed, examining her outfit with a crinkled brow. "No I don't," she insisted sheepishly. "I spent forever trying to figure out what to wear because I didn't know what we'd be doing, and so I didn't exactly know how to dress. I thought about wearing jeans but then I remembered how hot it's supposed to get today and then I thought about a dress but then I thought that'd be a bit much for a first date – not that me in a dress implies, well, anything really but in my mind it kind of did…" she trailed off, her bottom lip trapped under her teeth. "You didn't need to know any of that and I'm talking too much again which I really have to learn to control…"_

_Oliver grinned. "I like it when you talk too much," he admitted fondly. "Not many people say what they really think; it's cool that you do. And, for the record, you do look…wow."_

_She ducked her head, abashed. "Oh well…thanks. You look hot," her orbs widened, " – _nice! _I meant nice!"_

"_I'll take 'hot'", he quipped, garnering a quiet giggle off her that boosted his confidence. Their eyes locked, something unknown yet undeniable charging between them. "I like your house," he said after a beat, motioning around him. His own eyes narrowed at his choice of topic, feeling the swell of stupidity rising in him again. _

"_Thanks. I mean, it's no Queen mansion but it does the job –" her mouth rounded in an 'o', "- I didn't mean to make a crack at how much money your family has, I was just trying to make a comparison and I put my foot in it like always…"_

"_Felicity," he cut in, her name smooth on his tongue, "it's okay."_

_She tittered gently in relief, tilting her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "Did you do something to your hair?"_

_Was it bad that he felt all tingly because she noticed something different about him? Yes, yes it was. He ran a hand through his locks self-consciously. "Apparently there's this thing called a hairbrush," he joked. "It works wonders."_

"_So I've heard," she toyed back, using the door jamb to lean forward and in doing so, causing some of her hair to fall forward over her face. He never realized how long her hair was until then, its bounciness an extension of her personality. _

"_So…" His arms swung forwards and backwards as he let his focus fixate on her smile, "you ready to go?" _

"_Oh yeah sure, let me just grab my things." Before he could say anything she disappeared into her house, a bunch of noises and shuffles the only sounds to be heard while he waited, but just as soon as she was gone, she was back with a bag and a light jacket draped over her arm, her cheeks flushed from the movement. _

_Once the door was closed behind her, he boldly offered her his hand, praying that he wasn't being too forward. The want to hold her hand increased with every second they stood on that porch and in his mind, the decision to take the lead was now or never. Though there was a fleeting instance of hesitation on her part, Felicity accepted it, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing once as if she needed to make sure he was really there. _

_He squeezed back for good measure, trying not to focus on how perfectly her hand fit with his; her soft, delicate skin meshing with his slightly rougher graft creating just the right balance. _

_The walked hand in hand toward his car, the fresh breeze whipping around and cooling them down. He opened the passenger door for her and watched her smile shyly as she climbed in and when she was safely inside, he closed it and circled around to the driver's side, sliding in next to her. _

_He drove the Porsche. Instinct told him to impress her, to utilize his wealth to give him an edge, and if he was being honest, a part of him wanted to show off, to give her the best date possible because he was Oliver Queen and the sky was the limit. But another part of him, a larger part, believed that Felicity deserved to be treated the best. She deserved to be driven around in a Porsche purely because she would never want to be. She wasn't the type to make a big deal over his money – in fact, it actually made her uncomfortable, and that made him like her more. She didn't like him for how many zeroes he had in his trust fund, she didn't like him for his luxurious possessions or his ability to get pretty much anything he wanted without reserve; no, she, somehow, just simply liked him for him. What a fascinatingly thrilling concept. _

"_Where are we going?" she inquired curiously, angling her body toward him, a wave of her perfume washing over him. It was sweet but not in the overpowering kind of way. "You were kinda vague on the details."_

_He swallowed, flexing his hands on the steering wheel. "I was thinking we'd go for a walk in the park. Maybe get an ice cream."_

_An incredulous giggle burst out of her and she quickly slammed her hands over her mouth to stop it progressing further. _

_His chin dipped, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What's so funny?"_

"_It's nothing…it's just that, well, you don't really look like a 'walk in the park' kind of guy, that's all."_

"_Well that would be because I'm not really."_

_Her stare turned searching. "Then why choose it?"_

_Oliver had decided on the park after a pretty long debate with himself where we must have weighed up every option available to him. Nothing seemed to work. His ideas were either too crazy for a first date or just not good enough. When he thought about what he thought she'd like to do, a simple date came to mind – something easy and uncomplicated, where they could hang out without the stress of a label. No other option allowed him such freedom to get to know her better; in fact, they'd only inhibit the conversation. Oliver wanted to know as much about Felicity as possible. "I just felt like it was the perfect place for us to go. I mean, it's sunny out and we can walk and talk and I know of this ice cream truck that sells the best ice cream in Starling…" he stopped when he caught her expression. "What?"_

"_Nothing, it's just…you're surprising me that's all."_

_He glanced at her quickly. "Is that a good surprising or a bad surprising?"_

"_Oh good!" she asserted with her hands reaching out in front of her." Definitely good."_

"_Well that's good to know." _

_A mischievous glint in his eye, and taking stock of Felicity's watchful gaze, he pressed the button next to his arm, rolling down both his and her windows. The cool breeze roared through the space, pulsing over them as he picked up the speed. Her hair flapping wildly around her and his pulling all kinds of funny shapes, Oliver decided to open the sunroof, letting the rushing air consume them both. Though she was fighting with her unruly locks, Felicity couldn't contain her laughter – and she _really _laughed, throwing her head back and her arms in the air. The sound was just as exhilarating as speeding down the highway with the windows down, and soon enough Oliver joined in with her, finding it unbelievably infectious._

"_Looks like I messed my hair up!" he yelled over the wind, pointing to his loose cut. _

_Biting her bottom lip, a small smile peeking though, Felicity reached over and took the hand closest to her, raising it in the air just a few moments. _

"_What are you doing?" he asked with a chuckle, basking in how alive the burst of wind in his face made him before steadying his hand back on the wheel again. The heat from her touch lingered on his fingertips, distracting him slightly. _

"_I can't let you miss out on all the fun!" she explained cheerfully, pushing all the excess blonde off her face and closing her eyes, tilting her head toward the glaring sun. _

_Oliver's smile widened as he turned his head to fully look at her._

_He couldn't wait for the rest of the date._

* * *

The laptop was like a lead weight in his hands. Despite knowing it was just his anxiety messing with his head, Oliver swapped it from one arm to the other and then back again, feeling his muscles tense as he marched to the IT department, feigning an air of authority. One of the perks of being CEO was the lack of interaction he received when he travelled through the building and he, for one, couldn't have been more grateful for that as he closed the distance. Dealing with anyone at that point would have deterred him from what he had planned to do.

He had resigned himself to the fact that he needed help and though there were people who would have been more than willing to help out Mr Queen, none of them were Felicity. None of them knew computers like Felicity. And none of them kept a lock on his heart.

It was a risk; a gamble. But maybe, like Digg said, it was one worth taking.

She had her own office; the door wide open when he arrived. A puff of breath left his body and he braced himself, cursing that uneasy flopping his stomach was casually doing. Honestly, it was like his body was actively trying to sabotage him.

As he envisioned, Felicity was nose-deep in whatever was on her screen, her glasses dangling dangerous at the end of her nose. She chewed mechanically on the lid of her pen – something she used to do when doing her homework once upon a time, her eyebrows knitted together as she tapped away at her keyboard.

When his entrance didn't register with her, Oliver cleared his throat. "Hey," he greeted.

Her head shot up in shock, sending her ponytail flying out in all directions. "Ol…Oliver? Don't you knock?" she interrogated breathlessly.

"Felicity this is the IT department; it's not the ladies room." He _really_ tried not to laugh but he was too late to suppress the smile that broke through.

She shook her head as if to bring her back to earth. "What – what are you doing here? I thought I told you I needed space and you coming down here isn't exactly –"

"Giving you space," he finished with a nod. "I know. But I'm not here to talk about…us; I'm here because I need your help. That's it; no hidden agendas or anything. I just need that crazy smart Smoak brain of yours."

Her lips rolled in, she squinted, trying to read him. She always did enjoy doing that. "What exactly is it you need my help with?"

A muscle in his neck ticked. "I'm having trouble with my computer and I have it on good authority that you're the person to come and see. You are the best at this type of stuff, after all." He pulled the laptop from under his arm and presented to her, leaving it on the desk. Felicity scooted over to it, fixing her glasses in the process. "I was at my coffee shop, surfing the web and I accidentally knocked it off the table."

"Really?" she posed disbelievingly.

"Yeah."

"Because these look like bullet holes."

He really should have worked out his excuse _before _he came down to the department. "My coffee shop is in a bad neighbourhood."

So much for being able to think quickly on his feet.

Felicity jerked her head forward, eyes narrowed. "Oliver, come on."

She was attempting to look menacing but he smiled nonetheless, letting her know that he knew how ridiculous he sounded. "Look, can you please just try to get it to work? I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important and you know that." He raised his shoulder a little, hoping the gesture would cut him some slack. "I really need your help, Felicity."

He made a deal with himself earlier: if she turned him away he would just figure something else out, no questions asked, no hard feelings; but the imperceptible change in her depths told him that he may have stood a chance. "Okay," she finally said after sizing him up, running her fingers over the grooves of the machine. "I'll see what I can do."

His shoulders dropped in relief. "Thank you. Um…" he checked his watch, "would it be okay if I came back…say around 5?"

Felicity licked her lips and nodded. "Yeah, that should be fine."

"Great." That was his cue to leave he knew, but he paused there a few seconds longer than courtesy demanded just looking at her. With all thought about how he had to give her space and keep her at a distance, he never really allowed himself a lot of time to digest the fact that, through whatever forces that may be, Felicity was back in his life. It stultified him to be perfectly honest. Being able to actually look at her, hear her voice – it proved astounding. On the island he only had his hazy memory and unreliable thoughts to help him construct a picture of her, yet none of that held a torch to the reality. "Well I guess I'll see you later then."

"I guess you will," she said, dragging her focus from him onto the laptop in front of her.

Before he said anything else, Oliver turned on his heel and strode out of the office, feeling her eyes on him as he did.

* * *

Her fingers danced over the keys swiftly. "It took me longer than I thought which surprised even me because we both know that file restoring is pretty much my thing, except for that one spat during senior year when I was _all_ about coding, but eventually I managed it get in."

"How many cups of coffee did it take?" That invited a questioning look from her. Oliver shrugged, his business suit feeling large and chunky on him as he sat in the confined space behind her desk. "You always drink coffee when you're trying to crack something."

She twisted back to face the screen abruptly. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don't do that anymore?" she said a little petulantly.

"Not really."

Her hands stopped moving for the briefest moment. "Whatever," she grumbled, but the beginnings of a crooked smirk gave her away. "And I only had 3," she added when the silence lengthened a little too much.

"Really? Only 3?"

"Okay so maybe it was more like 5…"

"That sounds more like it," he professed teasingly, leaning forward so that his shoulder brushed hers.

Felicity, not one to overlook anything, spotted their close proximity and promptly, albeit pretty subtly, pushed her chair away from him. "Do you want these files or not?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized, his tone too solemn for the atmosphere.

The shift was immediate.

"I wish you'd stop saying that," she muttered under her breath; he knew he wasn't supposed to hear it – and that alone elicited a sharp tug in his chest. "Anyway…uh, when I got in, all that I could really find was this," she pushed a few buttons and a cascade of blueprints appeared in front of him, all of different buildings. "I mean, all that there seems to be, aside from the standard programs, are building plans…which you obviously know because it's your laptop and I'm just stating the obvious. I seem to have a tendency to do that - why exactly do you have blueprints of prominent buildings in the city? Is QC looking to acquire them?" Her hands darted out in his direction. "Wait, no don't answer that; that's absolutely none of my business and I shouldn't be asking you things that have nothing to do with me - just because we have history doesn't mean we have to share anything about anything."

The tug in his heart intensified, practically begging him to say something, to lay a hand on her shoulder, to just _act_. _Make a move._

But he stayed still, keeping fixed on the prints, noting that five of them were of buildings already hit by the vigilantes. "Something like that," he replied vaguely, not alluding to anything in particular. "Did you happen to come across a list of some sort?"

Felicity eyed him carefully, her suspicion aroused. He could tell by her piqued eyebrows and rolled lips. Always a dead giveaway. "What kind of list, Oliver?"

"Just a list of names; nothing special," he answered off-hand.

She wasn't buying it. Turning in her chair to face him fully, she frowned. "Is all of this some kind of really badly put together ploy just to see me?" she charged, upset. "Because if it is, Oliver, I think you should go. I wasn't lying when I said I needed space and seeing you, especially when I wasn't prepared, just completely throws everything out of whack. I mean, one look at you and I'm that stupid, naïve girl who was completely in love with you – which I no longer am of course – but you know what I mean; you can't just do…_this._"

He exhaled slowly. "_Felicity_," he emphasised her name softly, "I don't want to overstep boundaries here; I really just needed your help."

With a curt nod that gave no indication of what was going through her mind, her fingers began to work again and Oliver waited patiently, watching icons and windows bounce around the screen. "I can't see a list," she explained, distracted.

"That's okay; it wasn't that important."

Her tongue met the roof of her mouth. "Okay then." A few clicks later and she unplugged a USB and handed it to him. "Here you go. Everything I could recover is on that."

Their fingers brushed lightly as he took it from her and ignoring the shock that ran up through his arm was impossible. Coughing to cover up his expression, Oliver stood. "Felicity, you're remarkable," he proclaimed, smiling.

Her face brightened. "Thank you for remarking on it."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. I know you're busy and I just…thank you for doing this for me."

"Don't mention it," she waved off bashfully. "That's what friends are for."

_Friends. _

He could work with that.

Felicity reached for her coat on the back of her swivel chair with one arm and used the other to push around a few things on her desk into corners so as to give the impression that it was tidy. She never was the tidiest person; not messy by nature, but just not neat. Her life was a constant hop from one thing to another, flowing and connecting into whatever she liked at the time, never fully remaining steadfast so it made sense that her life, and everything in it, was devoid of a sense of order. Oliver loved that about her.

"Heading home?" he probed innocently, rubbing his fingers against his thumb.

"Well it _is _home time."

"Let me walk you to the parking garage. It's the least I can do."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need an escort, Oliver. I do it all the time."

"But today you have me and I insist."

"Well, _I _insist that you don't have to."

A shot of breath left his lungs. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"Why are you so persistent?"

"Will you just let me?" he chuckled.

Her face dropped. "I don't think it's a good idea, okay?"

"How about just to the elevator?" he offered, scrubbing a hand over his face. He couldn't just leave it at that.

He just couldn't.

"Olive-"

"Felicity."

Whatever was in his expression must have stirred something inside her because she rounded the desk and planted herself in front of him, her face tilted up to meet his perusing gaze. "Fine," she relented. "Just to the elevator."

His arm pulled out wide, signalling for her to lead the way. The clacking of her heels somewhat unnerved him but he followed suit, keeping in-step with her the whole way, not once moving too close or too far. To stop himself from doing something rash, he jammed his hands into his pockets.

She was the first to break the unwanted silence. "I saw the news earlier. About your mom."

Of course she did. Coverage of Moira Queen's trial was everywhere, shoving itself into Oliver's face at every chance. Not only did he have to deal with the press loitering outside his home when he left in the morning and when he came home at night, but they had taken to hanging outside QC offices now too, badgering him for a comment, asking him ludicrous questions and generally pissing him off.

The trial was coming up fast and bracing himself for what was to come wasn't an easy task. He was trying to keep it together for Thea's sake but with so many things piling on top of him, he found himself on the cusp of crumbling under the pressure.

"Yeah. It's kind of hard to miss."

Felicity pushed up her glasses. "How's Thea doing with it all?"

"Considering the circumstances…better than I thought. She finally went to see my mom and now she's there any chance she gets. It's tough on her though; she's still just a kid. But you know what she's like – Thea's strong. Always looking for ways to fight back." That she asked about his sister at all alleviated the tension nestling inside him. For the past few weeks it was as though there had been a physical manifestation of tension burgeoning in the pit of his stomach, growing and spreading with each passing day, worming its way through his entire body.

"Gosh, she must be, what, _fifteen_ now?" She shook her head. "She's gone through so much already…how're you doing with it all?"

"About as well as you could imagine," he replied honestly, his tone causing her to pause.

Shakily, her hand came up to rest on his arm, her eyes sad.

And then the commotion started.

"_Oliver Queen_!" the voice boomed from down the hall. "_Find me Oliver Queen!"_

The sound of gunfire rang out around them, the sound deafening. All that could be seen was spurts of screaming office workers sprinting in all directions in complete panic.

Grabbing hold of Felicity without even thinking about it, he readied himself to do the same when a band of hooded figures swam into view, their guns aimed straight at him.

"_Oliver Queen_," the person in the middle thundered, jutting the firearm in his direction again, making him flinch in fear. "_You have failed this city!_"

Felicity's panicked breaths pounded against his ear.

He gulped.

* * *

**So I have taken liberty with the Olicity story in Arrow so far; I couldn't use the 'spilled latte' excuse because I felt like it just wouldn't work with these versions of the characters but I love that scene so much that I thought I'd adapt the story to suit it.**

**As for Oliver being called 'The Hood' rather than 'The Arrow', I'm planning on having him consider the name change soon. In the first episode of the second season he was still stuck in name limbo and since I've used the villains from that episode, I felt it appropriate to keep it that way until the story moves past this particular event. As for further chapters, some events from season 2 will most likely appear (I have a few ideas...haha) so I hope you guys look forward to that!**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it! Please leave me a review telling me what you thought! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey all! You guys are awesome - thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites! I'm so glad you're enjoying this story! Hope you like what you read :)**

**Alas, I do not own Arrow.**

* * *

Everything happened so quickly.

The hooded figure was joined by three other persons, the barrels of their guns staring sadistically at them, a sentence to death written in their profile.

His nerves on fire, he gripped Felicity tighter and readied himself for action. He'd been in tighter spots before and he sure as hell didn't beat the island to be thwarted by a few rogue thrill-seekers in Starling City – especially not with Felicity at his side.

He had a second to act.

One second.

Survival instinct coursed through Oliver's veins, pumping around his body at a rapid pace, igniting every atom in his core.

Instinctively, he dropped them both to the ground as fast as he possibly could, their bodies flush. Bullets sprayed. Windows smashed. Sparks flew from where they ricocheted off solid matter. Screams amplified. He was acutely aware of her distress pinned under him and, in the hope the gesture would lessen her fear, he allowed himself a brief glance into her depths, his eyes urging her to remain calm, to trust him, to hold tight. She swallowed hard under the gaze, her own eyes answering his.

A cacophony of sound rang through his ears, smacking against his eardrum, dulling the sense and making him disorientated, but while the commotion intensified, Oliver saw his opening and jolted to his feet with Felicity in tow. His arm wrapped around her middle, they rushed to the away from the shooters and around the nearest corner, the wall their shield for the time being.

The gunfire escalated; the danger strikingly real.

Oliver grasped at the space beside him with the need to diminish his worry, his breath coming in fast spurts. Felicity's absence known immediately, he swiftly turned his attention away from the attackers toward her just in time to see a rogue gunman surging toward them. With almost no time to react, he moved to throw himself in front of the blonde, but Felicity, brimming with adrenaline, was the first to act. She swung her arms wildly, smacking the assailant square in the face with her handbag, knocking them out on impact.

Her head tilted back in realization at what she had done, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "I guess…my tablet…he's out cold."

They were closing in on them. "_Oliver Queen! Show your face!"_

He eyed the wall of glass in front of him, clocking all the risks in his head.

There was only one exit option available.

His hand tightened on her elbow. "Do you trust me?" he yelled over the clamour.

With a lick of the lips, she looked directly into his eyes and nodded.

He didn't waste any more time. Without a second thought, he pulled her to his side and took off toward the window, the bullets firing in their direction. At the last possible second Oliver snatched at the chain from the curtain rail as they hurtled through the glass, angling Felicity into him as they swung through the air and back through the window two floors below in one fluid movement.

Splinters of glass exploded around their frames in fantastic, deadly display as they each careened over a desk and spattered onto the ground. Shards showered over their still bodies, gusts of wind flapping papers about, the scene eerily calm. The seconds that followed were encased with shell of climax, relief saturating over the destruction they created.

Oliver was the first to pull back to sense, his vision rapidly scanning the area closest to him, but once he saw Felicity stir next to him, he desperately reached out and draped back her messy ponytail, needing to see that she was okay. Apart from a few minor scrapes on her face that he hated himself for, she seemed to be fine and her breathless nod to him confirmed as such, allowing him the chance to release a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding since the moment they charged for the escape.

He didn't know if it'd work.

He didn't know if the rail would hold their combined weight.

He didn't know if he was being reckless or if he was being smart.

He didn't know if his rash decision would lead to their deaths.

But seeing her alive and in one piece next to him quelled the overwhelming pain shooting through his limbs. He did what he had to do. They were safe.

Clambering to his feet, he dusted off the remnants of the windows and offered her his hand in aid. She took it, her eyes glazed over in shock. "Are you okay?" he asked breathily. Her legs moved robotically, like they were running on sheer habit more so than direction but as soon as she was upright, she fell into him, causing him to step back to support her weight. "Whoa, whoa, okay," he stammered worriedly, ushering them over to the couch on the other side of the office to sit her down.

Her hands gripped the edge of the furniture as though she feared she'd fall off if she didn't steady herself and against his better judgement, and also perhaps selfishly, Oliver slipped down next to her and cautiously put an arm around her shoulder, his hands idly rubbing back and forth in an attempt to soothe her.

"Felicity…" he whispered, on edge due to her state. "Please say something. Are you hurt?"

Just then her head lurched to the side so that she could look at him. "How did you…" she paused to fix her askew glasses, "you jumped out the _window_! You just threw us out a wall of glass – and I _let _you do it! I mean, I realize we were in a pretty tight spot with frighteningly low escape options but we're twenty floors above ground level and you just hopped out there without a care in the world and I just rolled along with it because, let's face it, I really had no other choice and then we were flying through the air and somehow coming back in through another window…I mean, _how _did you know what to do? What part of the brain registers _that _as a viable exit route? And the blinds rail! It could have snapped! We could have fallen out of the sky! I could have been splattered on the pavement, bits of me embedded all over the street…" Oliver drew back his arm, figuring his touch might not have been the best idea right then. "How, Oliver?"

"I don't know…" he replied, shaking his head. "I just acted. Pure instinct." He pulled at his tie, feeling it choking him. "I've been in a lot of, uh, pretty intense situations over the years and I've had to learn to trust my gut to get me out of them."

"On the island?" she demanded, her voice still wavering from the bountiful energy emanating from her.

He nodded curtly. "You could say that I had to find a few inventive ways to survive while I was there. But that doesn't excuse what I did; I shouldn't have put your life in jeopardy like that. It was reckless of –"

"No, Oliver," she interjected with closed eyes. With a deep breath she reopened them, the nervy edges now softened. "You saved me. Granted it definitely wouldn't have been my first choice, but without that little Tarzan stunt I would have been…well I don't really want to think about that really because," she pulled away, scrunching her face into one of her many expressions that somehow clearly conveyed what she meant. "The point is you shouldn't feel guilty about saving my life – even though I can see that it's too late for that," she pointed out, indicating with her pointer finger to the lines on his forehead.

"I guess it's my default setting these days," he uttered solemnly.

Her back straightened suddenly, her head cocking to the side as she studied him. "It shouldn't have to be; you shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself. Especially when you've just," her hands swung to and fro and then pounded the air.

He smirked despite himself. "I think that's easier said than done."

Any traces of distress vanished from her features instantly, a much more thoughtful look in its place. "Well, now seems like a good time to start trying." The sincerity in her words was impossible to overlook, filling up the space between them. "Thank you," she breathed.

"Anytime."

She blinked suddenly, as if out of a trance. "Wow I think my heart is finally starting to beat again at a semi-regular pace; that's nice," she said, moving away from him again and observing the mess they had just made.

_You shouldn't put so much pressure on yourself._

Oliver gave himself a moment for her words to sink in. That was all he had been doing for years - one pressure atop of another, building and building, pushing him down, making his body leaden, anchoring him to the guilt he lived his life by…

Pressure was all he knew.

Pressure was all he felt.

As Oliver Queen, CEO; Oliver Queen, son; Oliver Queen, brother; and Oliver Queen, The Hood.

It was probably the adrenaline talking; her mouth and thoughts spilling out of her as they popped into her mind but regardless, it was uncanny how she could say something that hit so close to home at the most inopportune times. He guessed she still saw him better than anyone else.

"Thanks Felicity," he murmured sincerely.

"For what?"

He chose his words carefully. "For knowing me better than anybody else."

The twinkle in her eye wasn't formed from his imagination and her fingers danced together just for something to do, but just as it looked like she was about to say something, a different voice carried through the air, alerting them immediately.

Oliver was on his feet in an instant.

"Oliver! Oliv-"

A swift jab to the stomach cut the call short, his instincts in overdrive. Felicity let out a cry of surprise at his adept timing, her body backing into the room. But it wasn't until the intruder raised an imposing hand and spoke up that he realized his mistake.

"Dammit Oliver it's me!"

He jerked back, eyes wide. "Digg? God, Digg I'm sorry!"

His partner, with one knee on the ground and an arm hung around his abdomen, narrowed his eyes, obviously winded. "Tell that to my stomach," he groaned.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, moving over to hook an arm around the man so he could assist him to his feet.

Through pained lids, Diggle surveyed the decimated office space, wincing every now and again. "I know you're kind of the king of getting out of tight spots but this," he waved a hand at the destruction, "is new even for you. Since when did you become Spider-man?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. There was no way anyone was going to let his, truth be told, pretty extravagant stunt slide anytime soon.

"Funny, I thought it was more like Tarzan," Felicity blurted abruptly and subsequently threw a hand over her mouth as soon as she did. "Sorry, I have a tendency to say things without thinking - been doing that since I was child and it's a tough habit to break once you've been doing it for practically your whole life and I probably should have stopped talking way sooner…I think I'm coming down from the buzz…"

Kicking glass out of his way, Oliver shuffled over to her, gingerly resting a hand on her elbow in a form of comfort. He was sure hugging would have been unsuitable for the moment that was in it, but knowing that didn't stifle the growing desire to do so in him. Diggle cleared his throat, the noise discarding his thought process. He turned to face him. "Diggle, this is my…friend, Felicity Smoak," he announced, gesturing to her. "Felicity," he looked back at her, "this is John Diggle, my-"

"I'm his black driver."

Oliver hung his head in exasperation. "And bodyguard and friend," he supplied. Digg snickered.

"Bodyguard?" she questioned with a wry smile. "Great job up there…" she lifted her hand up, pointing to the ceiling. Oliver and Diggle exchanged amused glances. A beat passed and then, "That was a joke by the way! Sometimes things sound way funnier in my head and I end up either making a fool of myself or offending someone so in case you were wondering…that was a joke."

John chuckled. "I like her," he remarked to his boss.

Felicity smiled meekly, extending a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr Diggle."

He accepted it. "Likewise, Ms Smoak." His eyes travelled over to her other hand that rested limply against her hip. "Are you hurt?"

Oliver snapped his stare to her hand immediately, the tension in his shoulders burning.

"It's nothing," she assured with a shake of the head. "Probably just a sprain. It could have been a lot worse than that if it weren't for Oliver."

"If it weren't for me you wouldn't have been there in the first place," he muttered under his breath but something in the way her ponytail ebbed to the side told him that she had heard it. In effort to sway conversation away from him and them and pretty much anything else to do with what had just happened, Oliver coughed and let go of her elbow. "Where are the hoods now?" he directed to Diggle.

"SCPD are on site but the hoods got away."

His jack ticked. "And they came after me."

"Why?" Felicity posed innocently.

He puffed heavily. "For weeks they've been targeting prominent people of Starling City who they think have been, I don't know, turning a blind eye in the aftermath of the Undertaking. I guess it was only a matter of time before they decidedly focused on the Queen family. Having our name associated with the biggest disaster to ever hit the city has to pay up at some point." Even to him his voice sounded defeated, almost forlorn, but there was something so disconcerting about a gang of vigilantes coming after him, _Oliver Queen_, rather than the Hood. "Something tells me it isn't the last I've seen of them."

* * *

The sun had well and truly set by the time they were making their way home.

After they had cleaned up the, thankfully, minimal superficial cuts and scrapes and Felicity had regained most of the control of her limbs, SCPD were extremely keen for information and pounced on them for statements and accounts and what felt like endless circles of questions where the answers served no help to the investigation:

_Did you get a good look at them? _

_Did they say anything? _

_Do anything that might offer up some information on their identities? _

_What on earth possessed you to hop out a window?_

_Any reason they would come after you?_ – the most ridiculous question of the day really.

It didn't help either that the series of questioning was carried out by two different detectives and then finally by Detect- no, _Officer_ Lance. Sure, Lance and the Hood had been somewhat working together over the past couple of months even though it had earned the man a demotion in his job, but Lance and Oliver Queen, the CEO, the man who got one of his daughters killed while breaking his other daughter's heart in the process, were still on shaky terms. His interrogation was…_brash _to say the least. Full of grunts, disapproving shakes of the head and penetrating stares.

He was a bit gentler to Felicity in all fairness, the father in him shining through his pinched features every once in a while when she rambled too long or made some kind of inappropriate quip or flippant hand movement. Not even men with the most broken of hearts could withstand the sheer light of Felicity Smoak.

Oliver insisted that she ride home with him and Digg when they had finished the last soul destroying loop, mostly wanting to fully make sure she got there safely, but a part of him selfishly yearned to be around her for just a little longer. It was funny how easily he slipped back into the role of protective boyfriend…even though he wasn't her boyfriend anymore. Teenage Oliver always drove her home, walked her to her door, and waited until she was inside before pulling away – and now at a weary twenty-five, he was essentially doing the same thing. And that mere fact drew out the clouds of dark clawing through him for the time being.

What he hadn't counted on, though, was Felicity easily accepting his offer. A fiercely independent spirit, she was never a fan of his end of date ritual so when she agreed practically immediately, it took him by surprise. The good kind of surprised, to be honest. Okay, so maybe Diggle's offer of grabbing some Big Belly Burger to go made it all the more appealing, but either way, she gave no quarrel to them giving her a lift.

"It's not too far now, just toward the end of that street," she announced, leaning forward with a hand on the driver's headrest.

"Just tell me when," Digg responded chirpily. It was obvious he liked Felicity and Oliver dreaded the ensuing conversations between them that would no doubt occur the minute she stepped into her house. The quick glances in the rear view mirror at them, and the accompanied smirk, told him as much.

"You know, you didn't have to drive me home," Felicity said, squeaking against the leather seats as she twisted in Oliver's direction.

"I think it's a bit late for that," he noted whimsically.

"I know, but I just wanted to you to know that. I wasn't trying to impose myself on you guys and where I live isn't exactly near the Queen mansion so really I've just added trouble to your night and I should have politely declined and let you guys go on without me."

A playful expression written on his face, he leaned forward into her space. "Felicity, we both know I wouldn't have left you to make your own way home. And as for causing us trouble, Diggle's really mad that you ruined his date night."

The blonde gasped. "You had a date?! Mr Diggle why didn't you say anything?! Oh my God, I'm so sorry!"

John snorted from the front seat. "I think what Oliver's alluding to is my date night with Ms Pizza and a basketball game. I'm a big romantic."

Her shoulders sagged in relief and she smacked his shoulder with the back of her hand lightly. "You're such a jerk sometimes," she breathed. And then tensed.

Wanting to keep the moment easy, he chuckled once. "I have heard that," he commented.

What seemed like a myriad of emotions flickered over her face, animating her features in the transient light. She turned away from him, leaning her shoulder into the window as her view raked along the passing scenery. "Oh, Mr Diggle it's just the house up here, the one with the pink flower pot sitting beside the door," she proclaimed suddenly, pointing to it even though he couldn't see her from where he sat.

"You got it. And call me Digg – Mr Diggle makes me sounds like my father."

"Okay…Digg," she tested with a quick nod.

The car swerved to sidle up to the sidewalk, coming to a stop outside her townhouse. Unable to help himself, Oliver moved forward to have a good look at it. What he found most interesting about her home was how much it resembled the one she used to live in all those years ago, down to the flower pots and mailbox; like himself, she was drawn to familiarity like a moth to a flame.

"I like your house."

She whipped around, eyebrows hiked. Then, her face relaxed. "Thanks. It's no Queen mansion but it does the job."

His lips twitched. "Isn't this the part where you apologize profusely for passing comment at how much money my family has?" he asked good-naturedly, doing absolutely nothing to hide his delight that she remembered their exchange from their first date.

Felicity collected her bag from the floor, hooking it over her shoulder, looking everywhere else but at him. A pang of rejection scratched through him. "Not this time," she answered a little sadly.

He pursed his lips, his hands dropping onto his lap. "How about I walk you to your door?"

"No, Oliver, it's okay." Upon his crestfallen demeanour, she tagged on, "But you can stay here until I'm safely inside if it makes you feel any better."

"I'll take what I can get."

Her smile was genuine, reaching her eyes this time and with a cute shove of her glasses, she cleared her throat. "Thank you for today. You know, for the lift and the food and the saving of my life. You always have ways of surprising me."

"Felicity, you don't have to thank me, I'll alwa-" His phone buzzed erratically in his pocket, distracting him. He raised a finger asking her to wait, muttered an apology as he grappled with his suit pocket, and took it out. "Oliver Queen," he greeted, doing nothing to hide his chagrin.

"Oliver? It's Lance."

He swallowed, feeling apprehensive at the tone. "What can I do for you, Officer Lance?"

He could feel both Felicity and Diggle's eyes on him but his kept his stare fixated in front of him, not focusing on anything in particular. The weight in his chest began to expand, stretching out through his ribcage, clogging him up.

"It's…it's about your sister. Thea."

His throat constricted. "What about her?" he hissed through his teeth.

Lance hesitated on the other end and Oliver wished he could reach through the phone and shake the man for answers.

"_What about her?_" he boomed again, urging the man to speak.

In the corner of his subconscious he vaguely felt the soft touch of a hand on his arm but in that moment all he could feel was every hair on the back of his neck rise, the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach churning briskly.

"She's been taken. By the Hood copycats."

All of the breath sagged out of his body in one swoop, leaving him sinking forward so far that his forehead met the headrest of the passenger seat.

"Oliver?" Felicity asked in ultimate concern, her arms enveloping him.

"When?" he seethed into the receiver. "When was she taken?"

"About a half hour ago," Lance stated matter-of-factly. "Listen, Oliver we're doing everything we can and we're gonna get her back, okay?"

"Do you have any leads? Any idea where they might have taken her?"

"We're working on it."

"Do you have anything, Lance?" he barked, shooting upright, Hood persona taking over.

The officer gave a large sigh in obvious deliberation.

"_Please_," Oliver whispered, knowing full well that there was no good reason as to why Lance would offer him any information on the case, but he had to take the chance. Thea was missing, taken by some crazed psychos hell-bent on a vengeance crusade and he'd be damned if he didn't suck the well dry trying to find her.

"There was one thing," he relented. "One of the guys – African American going by witness statements – is missing a hand. We're running checks on him now."

Good. Something new to go on. It was small but it was better than nothing.

"Look, Oliver," he exhaled. "I'll call you as soon as we hear anything. Sit tight. We're gonna bring your sister home."

Then the phone went dead.

In a rush of anger, Oliver flung the device against the seat, his hands scraping through his hair. The phone bounced onto the ground and landed by Felicity's feet. Warily, she collected it and held it close to her.

Uncertainty and fear clouded the air; Diggle was the first to cut through. "Oliver, what's going on?"

He raised his chin defiantly. "The copycats took Thea."

Digg cursed under his breath.

Felicity gasped in horror. "Oh my God Oliver, I'm so sorry! Do – do they know where they've taken her?"

"No," he acknowledged through gritted teeth. "But I'm going to find out."

"How?" his friend asked with knitted eyebrows. "We don't even know what they look like much less where they'd be."

"Lance gave me some information. I just have to work off that."

The blonde's hand came over to clasp his, her thumb rolling over his knuckles. "Oliver, don't hate me, but shouldn't you leave this to the police?"

He finally met her eyes. "I can't sit and do nothing, Felicity. I have to find her."

She drew back resolutely, determination etched into her face. "Okay. And I'm going to help."

* * *

_His hands were clammy._

_That was literally the only thing winding through his mind as they walked through the park, the sun blinding, the sky clear for miles. _

_He could feel the moisture generate in his palm every time her hand tightened or her fingers squirmed through his and though there were a million other things he would rather focus on – like how her cheeks blushed pretty much any time he said something complimentary or how her hair waved behind her in the breeze or her laugh (which was like a manifestation of sunshine) – he couldn't keep his thoughts off his sweaty hands. Typical._

_And boy was it hot. _

_He was sure his shirt was beginning to stick to his back. How attractive. _

"_Are you okay?" Felicity suddenly asked mid-story. She was talking animatedly about her best friend back in Coast City. Her name was Dani and she sounded like the exact opposite to Felicity, but the way her free hand danced in the air and her eyes brightened when she talked about her intrigued him. Oliver knew how it felt to have a best friend that you knew everything about and could talk about anything with, and he understood the excitement with which she held herself over the topic. _

_Apparently, however, Felicity was perceptive and happened to notice his slight distraction. _

"_Yeah, yeah," he assured with a grin. "It's just really hot out, you know?" He fanned himself with his hand just to go that extra mile…because he was an idiot. _

"_Tell me about it," she agreed, blowing some air onto her face. "Sorry about my hands by the way; they're really sweaty – which is really disgusting when I think about it. In my head it sounded totally normal."_

_Oh thank God. He could almost definitely feel the relief seep through his pores. _

_Oliver choked out an incredulous laugh. When she tried to remove her fingers from his, he only strengthened his grip. "So are mine," he confessed dramatically as if it was a big secret. "Just don't tell anybody, okay?"_

"_Deal." A crooked smile broke out and she swung their hands more forcefully than before. He loved that she started to relax around him, a playfulness she hadn't really exhibited before, or at least not a side to her that he had seen much of, eking its way out. "Anyway, you're probably sick of hearing about my friend-"_

"_No I'm not," he interjected. "She sounds…"_

"_Different," she supplied with a chuckle. "Yeah, we're pretty opposite. But I think that's what makes us work so well."_

"_You miss her," he deduced softly, ducking his head so she'll meet his spheres. _

_She raised one shoulder. "Yeah, I do. This is the first time I've ever moved and to leave the only place I know and go to a completely different one where I don't know anybody has been harder than I thought it'd be. Sometimes I just wish Dani was here, you know?" Her head twisted away to look at a gaggle of kids running around happily on the green, their elated screams rising up into the air. "I know I've made friends here but…I don't know…it's just different."_

_That was the first time Oliver had heard her so…sad. Here was this girl that appeared to embody so much cheerfulness and joy sounding like the loneliest person in the world. It was then in that moment, as he watched her get lost in the children's enjoyment, that he promised that he'd do everything he could so that she'd never feel like that again. _

_Feeling the way he did when he was around her was certainly alien to him, but somehow he just knew that this girl, that _Felicity_, had the potential to be so much more to him. At sixteen, love – or the idea of love – seemed like something out of movie, a destination too far away for contemplation…but was he crazy for thinking that maybe he was already falling for her? _

_He tugged at her hand to root her to the spot and she looked back at him quizzically. "You know, sometimes it's better to have one really good friend than a bunch of people you only kind of know. Dani's your best friend and just because you're living in two different cities doesn't mean that'll change; you might even get closer." He knew that his words resonated with her when she eyed him in what could only be described as wonder. "Tommy's my best friend," he continued, feeling slightly self-conscious considering he was not known to be an open guy, "and in many ways I feel like he's my only friend. From the outside it probably looks like I have a lot but being Oliver Queen…it comes with a territory. It can be difficult to figure out who your real friends are." He frowned a little. "Anyway, uh, years ago, Tommy's family used to go on vacation for the whole summer and it was really tough, you know? I used to count down the days until he'd be back; being a kid billionaire without any friends is not a lot of fun. So I sort of know how you feel." He offered her a small smile. _

"_Well I'd like to think that you have another friend now," she said shyly, moving their interlocked hands around. _

"_And so do you."_

_Cue the blush again. He'd never tire of that sight. "You know you're different than people say."_

_Pools of blue met, the breeze calming for that breath of a moment as though observing them. "Well, most people fail to see the real me," he admitted, the ghost of a smile forming. "So…ice cream?"_

_She nodded. "Ice cream."_

* * *

He knew what she was capable of, of course - if there was one thing Felicity knew better than herself it was computers, but to see just how quickly she had managed to wrangle information was amazing. It was as though her fingers moved on their own accord, knowing exactly what to do and executing the plan as fast as humanly possible. He watched her work, hovering over her frame as she sat at her dining room table with Diggle flanking her on the other side, also visibly enthralled by her work ethic.

Every passing second caused his heart to pound harder, his fingers drumming against the table just for something to do. In the crowded mess of his mind, he clung to the sliver of hope that they hadn't killed Thea on site which meant they were waiting, biding time…most likely for Oliver. Truth be told, the idea that was she was still alive, still breathing for now kept him going, kept him from spiralling into a blind rage; he understood that information was vital, and Felicity was the only one that was able to help him at this point.

"Felicity, are you hacking into the hospital's mainframe?" Digg asked, his tone half-disbelief and half-admiration.

Her bottom lip jutted out as she spied the screen over her glasses. "Hacking is such an ugly word; no, I'm…yeah, totally hacking into the hospital mainframe." At his bemused face, she elaborated, "We know that one of the hoods is missing a hand, so I thought we'd check to see if there have been any males that have had surgical amputations on their extremities…"

"And cross-checking them by race and age," Oliver concluded.

"Exactly."

Diggle crossed his arms and smiled. "Now that is impressive."

In a matter of seconds, Felicity pumped her fist in the air, a clear indicator that she had found something. She had always been competitive when it came to, well, everything and over time, had developed that gesture as her form of victory celebration. Oliver had never been happier than to see it then. "Got one. Jeff Deveaux; African-American; late thirties."

"Anything else on him?" Oliver enquired, feeling his body start to shake in anticipation.

She worked away again. "He's an ex-marine. Lost his hand in the Undertaking." Her face dropped. "And his wife."

"What about his phone records?" the other man suggested. "We can find out who he's been in contact with."

A sheer doggedness he had never witnessed in her before seemed to take over as she punched the keys. "Okay…so he's made a lot of phone calls to a church in the Glades – something called 'Standing Strong'. It's a support group for those who lost loved ones in the earthquake," she read off the screen.

"And who wants to bet the other hoods are members of the same group?" Oliver thought out-loud. "Get me an address please."

Concern seemed to filter through the blonde's demeanour as she pulled up the address. "Oliver, I understand that you want to help get Thea back but I really think you need to tell the police these details. You can't just go there, they'll kill you – you have to talk to Officer Lance. He'll be able to help."

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face impatiently and resting his body against the wall. The easy option would have been to tell her who he really was but he'd already made his decision not to drag her down that path – and he was going to stick with it. "Yeah, yeah you're right. I'm just really worried about Thea. We're gonna go talk to the police right now, right Digg?"

John gave an imperceptible shake of the head, not a fan of Oliver's deflection. "Yeah, we are."

"I'll come with you."

"No, no," Oliver exclaimed, pushing off the wall and moving to her side. "Felicity you've already helped us so much and I can't thank you enough. You're…amazing."

"Are you sure? I don't mind going to the precinct with you."

He forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace and placed his hand on her shoulder. "No really it's okay. But I'll call you as soon as I hear anything. I promise."

"Okay," she relented in understanding.

"Thank you," he reiterated, squeezing her shoulder.

With a stern look in his partner's direction, they were on their way.

He was going to get his sister back.

* * *

"_I have to admit, this is really good ice cream," Felicity hummed in approval as she devoured the treat. _

_Oliver raised his chin smugly. "Told you."_

"_And who knew we liked the same flavour."_

"_Oh, there is nothing that mint chip can't fix," he asserted._

_They had found a bench at the edge of the park that was relatively covered in shade by the trees behind it and decided to sit down after they'd bought two cones. After a few minutes, Oliver bit the bullet and draped an arm along the top of it and around her, letting his fingers just brush off the exposed skin on her arm. She had turned into him as they spoke, their knees constantly connected as they ate. All the while this charge seemed to sit between them, an electricity that he'd never encountered before. _

_The best thing about the date was that the conversation never stalled; Felicity, by nature, was a talker and Oliver, as long as he was invested, could talk for hours on end to anyone who would listen. He knew almost immediately that they could talk for hours and hours and hours, never tiring of listening to the other one recall stories or passing comment on the most trivial of things. The thing was, most of the time, __they weren't really talking about anything; it was just random spurts of thoughts connecting and flowing into something else entirely, never once stopping even when he said something stupid that forced him to bite his tongue or she babbled for a little too long. As funny as it sounded, despite them being wholly different people, it was almost as if they were on the same wavelength, able to understand the other through a single glance._

_It was just so easy; so natural. _

_Nothing between them was forced. It was like she brought out a side to him that he wasn't too familiar with and he did the same for her, each of them exploring and discovering new feelings and thoughts._

_Was a first date supposed to be this good? _

"_So, how did you find the best ice cream in the city?" _

_He looked out toward the dimming sun. "Raisa used to take me here when I was younger and I would kick up a fuss if I didn't get some ice cream before we went back home." He laughed a little. "I was a very persuasive child."_

_She beamed. "I bet." She bit into her cone. "Who's Raisa?"_

"_Technically? She works for my family. Realistically? She's kind of like my second mom. My parents are busy people and she's been there for both me and Thea since as long as I can remember," he said fondly. _

"_How old is Thea?"_

_His legs crossed at his ankles, his body slumping down on the seat. "Six and three-quarters," he quipped. "She's a firecracker, chasing around after me everywhere I go. She's the cutest kid with the biggest heart." He smiled. "I spend a lot of time with her, especially when my mom isn't around or my dad's at work and I love it, to be honest. If I'm having a bad day, she's the one person who can make me laugh. Plus, we have awesome tea parties."_

_Felicity giggled. "Oh really?"_

"_Definitely. Maybe you can come to one some time," he commented nonchalantly even though he was internally screaming. He braced himself for her response._

"_I'd like that," she answered chirpily. Damn that felt good. "You know, I know what that's like – not having a little sister because I'm only child and the only experience I have with kids is that little girl that lives next door but she's kind of annoying…but the whole busy parent thing. Sometimes it's like my mom is always working. I only really get to see her at weekends and even then she's glued to her cell."_

_Oliver popped the last bit of his cone in his mouth, his fingers idly tracing nonsensical patterns on her skin. "What about your dad?"_

_Almost immediately she tensed and his hand stilled, sensing the sudden shift. Awkwardly, she toyed with her glasses, her head hanging toward the ground. _

_He wanted to kick himself. "Felicity, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-"_

_She pushed some of her hair behind her ear, looking back up at him through her eyelashes. "No, it's okay, Oliver." Her head shook as if the action could bring her back to a better state of mind. "I don't know my dad," she said with a breathy whisper. He felt his heart twist in pain for her. "He left when I was really young and I barely remember him. But I do remember how much it hurt when he left."_

"_I'm sorry," he murmured, pulling her closer to him, wishing he could say something better, could express something that would make everything okay for her. He hated the thought of Felicity hurting. _

"_Don't be. I'm a big girl," she laughed, but instead of its usual musical quality, it fell flat in melancholy. Shoving hair off her face, her depths appraised him tenderly, her lips curling upward. "But thank you."_

_A loose crooked smirk appeared on his face, his eyebrows raised in the hope that he could bring back her full beam again. _

_And it did._

_And then, ever so slowly, she leaned forward into him, their faces centimetres apart, and she kissed him. It was sweet and dripping in affection and though it took him a second longer than he would have liked to react, he kissed her back with the same reverence, his hand coming up to frame the side of her face as hers hooked into his shirt. Every part of him came alive, his heart racing as their lips moved to a rhythm neither of them set but understood anyway._

_She was the first one to break away for much needed air. "Wow," she breathed, licking her lips._

_Wow indeed._

* * *

Thea made it home unscathed later that night.

Once the suit was on, Oliver Queen was no more. He was the Hood; a man on a mission. And he was going to get his sister back.

Surprisingly enough, he was able to infiltrate the church with relative ease, using the upper echelons of the building as a means of catching them off-guard. Thea was tied to a chair in the middle of the aisle as the men huddled around her in obvious dispute as their guns swung listlessly from side to side as though they were mere toys instead of the lethal weapons they were. Oliver steeled himself, feeling the fury stir within him the more he saw how careless they were being with a life bound in front of them.

He knew it was time to take action.

Arrows were flung.

And shots were fired back.

They came at him like an oncoming storm, their moves sloppy due to the element of surprise. Mostly they attacked and hoped, their manoeuvres never having any impact as Oliver slipped and swirled out of their way, utilising their loose abandon as a means of taking them out one by one. Deftly avoiding their advances while using skills he had acquired and perfected on the island, he fast gained the upper hand, noting that the only other person in his way had cut Thea free and was dragging her across the building.

He chased after him, his quiver taut and ready. Ignoring the taunts and cries of the man and focusing solely on his sister's suffering, Oliver shot an arrow into the man's shoulder, sending him over the balcony.

He could have let him drop to his death. He could have let him pay. But his no-killing rule bobbed in the back of his mind and he was acutely aware that despite his mission, despite his anger, he couldn't let the darkness consume him. He had to honour Tommy's memory; and he wasn't going to let these lowlifes be the reason he tarnished the vow he had made.

Ultimately, the choice was a simple one. He saved him.

Thea was alive and unharmed – that was all that mattered.

Once he tied the vigilantes to the railing outside the church as a gift to the SCPD, his job was done and he headed back to the foundry.

* * *

"So she's okay?" Felicity asked for the fourth time, unable to cover her relief even over the phone. He could practically hear her teeth release her bottom lip.

Oliver grinned, feeling freer than he had in hours. "Yeah, other than a little shaken up she seems fine."

"I'm so glad that she's alright."

"Me too." He perched himself on the medical table, one leg firmly planted on the ground while the other dangled in the air. "Listen, we wouldn't have found her if it wasn't for you, Felicity; I can't thank you enough."

"Oliver, in case you forgot, you saved my life earlier – wow it's been a long day…" she trailed off for a second and then, "so really it was nothing. You know Thea's important to me. I was just happy that I could do something."

"Still…thank you." He just needed for her to accept it, needed her to understood how much her help mattered to him.

She waited for a few beats on the other end. "You're welcome, Oliver."

He smiled into the phone.

"Anyway I better get some sleep. I've got work in the morning and well when I don't get at least six hours I can't function properly and I need to be on top of my game because I'm still new to the job and I can't afford to slack off just yet…not that I plan on slacking off in the future…and I can't believe I just said that to my boss. Just pretend I said nothing, okay?"

He nodded. "Deal. Goodnight, Felicity," he said softly.

"Goodnight, Oliver," she replied in the same tone.

* * *

**So what did you all think? Writing action doesn't come all that naturally to me so I hope it read okay. Originally, I wasn't going to include flashbacks in this chapter but I just love writing them as lovestruck teenagers and somehow I managed to sneak them in! Haha. Anywho, I would love to know your thoughts on the chapter so if you have time please drop me a review :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! So sorry this update took so long but loads of things seemed to just get in my way and then finale week happened... Haha. By the way, can we talk about how awesome the finale was? I have never been so excited to see what happens for Olicity! Season 3 is gonna be good guys :) Anyway, I hope you like what you read! :)**

**Alas, I do not own Arrow.**

* * *

Iron Heights had this claustrophobic feel to it. As with any prison, the sense of being confined, of checking your freedom at the door as you waded further into its hallowed halls, pervaded throughout, making Oliver itch somewhat. It had a weird way of trudging up whatever paranoia existed inside of you, heightening it to the point where furtive glances from left to right become the default. It even smelled clinical; dust and chemical based cleaners blended into a burning stench that whacked you in the face the moment you stepped over the threshold. Just the thought of his mother spending her days locked in a concrete cell amongst hardened criminals who observed zero degree of remorse for the crimes they had committed caused a storm of nausea within him. Could he condone her actions – the Undertaking? Lying to both him and Thea? No.

But he could appreciate and understand the duress that Malcolm Merlyn put her under. He was a murderer; he was the instigator. It was _his _plan. She was merely acting out as a concerned mother.

What she did the night of the disaster ending up saving more lives than she could have ever hoped for. And her standing up in front of the city relaying her wrongs in an effort so that they had a chance, that they could live, showed true character and courage. And Oliver would be damned if he didn't show her support at her time in need.

Bottom line? She was his mother, and she had been there for him more times than he could count.

He and Thea sat waiting in the visitor's area, their hands intertwined as his sister bounced her knee erratically, making the table shake. Though she had been there a number of times, and had frequently visited by herself, Thea always looked to be on the edge of her seat, her body on the cusp of taking flight just in case. All Oliver could do was offer her a small smile and a squeeze of her hand to keep her grounded. No matter how insignificant they seemed, the gestures always seemed appreciated.

Moira Queen strode into the room with confidence, a regal-like air about her as bored guards flanked her sides, as if she was a queen and them her tired servants. Only she could make an entrance in that in prison. Oliver stood and hugged her, letting himself rest in her embrace for the moment before Thea pulled her to her in an almost desperate act of assurance. The hard lines on his mother's face softened as she regarded her daughter, the severity of the situation forgotten briefly, a smile gracing her features.

"How are you, dear?" she asked as she slinked onto the seat across from them, her mother mode on full alert.

Thea looked at Oliver. "I'm okay," she said with a shrug, playing it off. "Still a little jumpy I guess."

"I demanded a call to the police the moment I caught the news but clearly the well-being of a child does not rank highly among the officers here. And neither does being a Queen unfortunately." She sighed. "It wasn't until a saw the bulletin later that I found out you were safe."

Oliver took his sister's hand again, sensing the apprehension emanating off her. Ever since the kidnapping, Thea had been having starts and spurts of panic attacks and Oliver, though not always available to help her, had been doing his best to support her in any way that he could. "The main thing is that she's safe and the men who took her have been apprehended," he contributed matter-of-factly. "We can put this all behind us."

Moira reached across the metal table and took her children's hands in her own. Her face crestfallen, she swallowed hard. "I'm so sorry that I'm not able to be there for both of you right now."

"No, mom…" Thea shook her head harshly, "…it's okay. I'm okay, I promise." Her mom shot her a sad smile, obviously not truly buying it. "And I've got Ollie," she tagged on, shouldering him and in doing so, eliciting a kiss on the head from him. "So I'm good."

"Yeah, mom. We're good."

Resignedly, Moira shuddered a sigh, nodding her head as she moved back but keeping her hands locked to theirs. "You both are so strong. I don't know where you get that strength from."

"We're Queens," Oliver remarked wistfully. "We learned from the best."

The slightest sparkle returned to the woman's eyes. Her natural fire had extinguished the more the weeks prolonged; the inevitability of trial and the highly plausible outcome hanging heavily in her depths, sapping the energy that rested in her expression. Even to see a miniscule of her spirit make an appearance allowed Oliver to breathe easier.

All around them, guards escorted handcuffed prisoners into the area to meet loved ones, the atmosphere an odd mixture of relief and sadness. A sniffle from behind them cemented the true nature of where they were seated, the weight of situation once again making itself known. Recognizing it straight away, Moira flicked the stray hairs off her face and cleared her throat. "So…what else has been going on in your lives? If I know my children, I know that there's nearly always something else thrumming on in the background," she said lightly. "How's Roy, Thea?"

Roy was two years older than Thea – making him seventeen and verging on being an adult, and while Thea's sixteenth birthday was fast approaching, Oliver did not approve of her spending so much time with him. She claimed they were just friends…but nobody looked at their friends like that. Plus, Roy was from the Glades and was known by SCPD for his frequent rough-housing; not exactly glowing references as a potential boyfriend for his little sister.

"He's okay," Thea replied, rolling her eyes at his involuntary grunt.

"Keeping out of trouble?"

Her eyes widened, lips pursed. Oliver watched on in amusement, knowing all too well how much trouble Roy had found himself in over the past few weeks. Being The Hood had its advantages when it came to keeping an eye on Thea's love interest.

"Yeah, sis, is Roy keeping out of trouble?" he goaded playfully.

The younger Queen glared at him until the corner of her mouth pulled up into an impish grin. "Hey mom, do you remember Felicity Smoak?" she asked, keeping her stare fixed on her brother. Oliver's shoulders dropped, the blood rushing out of his face in record speed.

"Felicity Smoak…" his mother echoed aloud, her forehead creased into a V, a smile lurking on her lips. "How could I forget the talkative blonde girl that had Oliver completely smitten when he was a teenager?"

"I…was not…smitten," he insisted weakly.

His mother levelled him with an Are-you-serious?-look, her head lolling to the side in that knowing way.

Thea smirked, visibly relieved that she had managed to change the subject and utilise her gossip skills all at once. "Well she's back in town," she informed eagerly as if he wasn't sitting right next to her. "And Oliver is back to completely crushing on her again."

"Oh I think your brother had a little more than just a crush on her."

"Do we really have to talk about this?" he interjected in exasperation. It was bad enough that he was constantly subjecting himself to this torture but to have the rest of his family hop on the bandwagon wasn't helping.

Moira's expression softened and she leaned forward onto the table as if ready to conspire. "You loved her, Oliver," she said simply, as if her words didn't mean anything. His breath hitched at the turn in the conversation. "It's rather difficult to forget someone like Felicity. She certainly had a hold on your heart; I knew that from the moment I met her."

Oliver sat back. "You did?"

"Ollie, everybody could see how you felt about her – it was like you walked around with hearts in your eyes! If it wasn't kinda gross it would have been cute."

He coughed a laugh. "Gee, thanks Thea."

The older woman patted his hand, garnering his attention. "So she's back in town…"

"Yes he is," he affirmed with a puff of breath.

"And?"

He turned his head toward the ceiling, shrugging. "_And_ that's it. She's working at Queen's Consolidated and I'm trying not to…" he struggled to define what exactly he was doing, "push her, I guess. Seeing me again…it's – I don't think she really knows how to deal with it. Honestly, neither do I."

"You were both very hurt with how it ended," Moira added, now rubbing circles on the back of his hand in comfort. That was something she did when he was younger and needed his mom. She'd take his hands, anchoring him, steadying him, the simple movements a way of calming him down and allowing him to focus on them alone instead of the whirlwind that was his mind. He recalled her doing that after Felicity had left and he told her what happened between them. The gesture now seemed to conjure the same feeling within him.

"We were just kids. We felt things deeper than we probably should have."

Thea rolled her eyes dramatically. "Sometimes you are just too much, Oliver," she groaned, dropping her head to the table for a second to emphasise her point. "When are you ever going to cut yourself some slack? Just because you were a teenager doesn't mean that what you felt wasn't real."

"Your sister's right, you know," the other woman agreed with a chuckle.

He rolled his lips in. "Even if she is right, it doesn't mean that we can just go back to the way things were. You know that, mom. That's not how the world works."

"No, of course not. You're older now; you have different life...experiences." Her face wrinkled as though the word caused her actual physical pain. "But did you ever stop to think that maybe the reason she doesn't know how to deal with you being back in her life is because a part of her still wishes you both could try it again? After all, that is what _you_ want."

Oliver tossed his head from side to side, coming up with nothing to retort. Eventually a small smile of admission broke through his stony demeanour and Moira winked in the way she used to when he was child.

Mothers: they could see right through you.

* * *

"_What if she doesn't like me?" Felicity asked, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in her pink dress before moving her hands to her hair, running her fingers through the ends. _

_That was the tenth time she'd asked that in the time it took for him to collect her, drive them back to his house and walk up to the front door, and for the tenth time he felt the need to assure her. This time though he grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop just before they entered the almighty Queen mansion – her words, not his. "Hey," he said quietly, ignoring the bustle all around him. Her eyes darted left, right, up, down as if trying to take literally everything detail in but as soon as she heard him speak her glance shifted to his. "My mom is going to love you. You have absolutely nothing to worry about; just be yourself."_

"_That's what I'm worried about," she asserted, anxiously curling hair behind her ear. "You know I speak before I think; what if I say something that makes her hate me?"_

"_Like about how hot her son is?" he offered coyly. _

"_I'm serious."_

_He grinned. "So am I." That earned him a roll of the eyes and a playful smack on his chest. "Look, just relax. My mom barely acknowledges my existence at these benefit things, so at most it'll be a quick hello, a few minutes hanging out in the main hall, and then a trip to the study to watch a movie, okay?"_

_She nodded profusely, taking a large breath. "Okay, okay." She gulped. "Okay. Promise you won't leave my side?"_

_Oliver hooked an arm around her waist and leaned in to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek. "I promise."_

_Under his touch, he felt her physically relax, resting into the pressure. With a charming smile firmly in place, he squeezed her hip lightly as they entered the house, the benefit already in full swing. _

_The problem with being a Queen was that no matter your age, it was expected of you to show up to each and every function, event, or party thrown. When he was younger, he enjoyed the idea of staying up late and mingling with people who treated him like some kind of prince, but at sixteen he'd already had his fill of small talk and boredom and when offered the chance to bring a friend, Oliver grasped at it immediately. _

_Of course, his mother probably meant Tommy; the last thing she expected was Oliver's very blonde, very beautiful girlfriend…_

"_Seriously if you leave my side I will hack into your computer and spam your desktop with pictures of fluffy animals," Felicity warned breathily, her head facing away from him. _

"_You know, you're kinda cute when you're being all threatening…"_

_She made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and sigh. "Shut up, Oliver."_

"_Alright, I'm sorry," he chuckled as he guided them deftly around a cluster of tired businessman talking about golf while their wives knocked back glasses of champagne and toward the large spread of food laid out in the main room. "And I told you, I'm not leaving your side."_

_Weirdly smooth jazz filtered through the air; one more thing that made the whole spectacle that little bit more pretentious if you asked him. _

"_But what if you have to go to the bathroom and I'm left standing here in the middle of the floor with a bunch of strangers and then your mother comes along demanding to know who I am and…" she trailed off, her cheeks flushed, "I'm not very good at this, that's all."_

_He rested a hand on her shoulder, lovingly rubbing his thumb across her collarbone before moving his hand up her neck until he was cupping the side of her face. "I won't go to the bathroom," he insisted lightly. "I'm pretty good at holding it in."_

_Finally she smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. Three months of spending almost every day with her and his heart still did unnatural things when he was around her; in fact, the more time he spent with her, the stronger his feelings grew. He couldn't see a day where he wouldn't feel that way about Felicity Smoak. _

"_I'm sorry," she groaned, twisting her bracelet around her wrist. _

"_For what?"_

_She dropped her eyes. "For acting like this. I bet this isn't how you thought this night would go."_

"_Felicity," he said in that way that made it sound like a full sentence, "the only part of this night I care about is being here with you, so it's going great in my book. And have I mentioned how hot you look tonight by the way? Because you do."_

_The girl narrowed her eyes, pink lips tugging upwards. "Always a charmer," she drawled. "And you're not so bad yourself."_

_A spark of heat soared through him and for the first time in his life he was glad he was wearing a tuxedo. _

_He angled his elbow so she could hook her arm through his. "Why thank you, milady. So…what do you say we get this over with so we can ditch this shindig – you ready to meet my mom?"_

"_No," she answered automatically, causing him to laugh at the abruptness. She smiled sheepishly. "But I guess you're right. Better to bite the bullet, get it over with. It's just like a ripping a band-aid off, right?"_

_Oliver barely knew what she was talking about but he agreed nonetheless, pumping her hand three times in assurance. _

* * *

As soon as he caught sight of her twirling on her office chair and waving the pen she held in her hands, he couldn't hold back his smile. She had earphones in her ear, the sound of the music loud enough to create that buzzy noise, and she hummed out the tune, her shoulders bopping along to the beat. She always had a nice voice.

For a second he felt like an intruder, someone observing a private scene, but in all honesty, he couldn't force himself to look away. So he stood there leaning against the door jamb with his arms behind his back, one leg crossed over the other, and a smile so wide that his whole face lit up watching her become lost in her own world. There was a time after he had returned from the island where he thought he'd never _really_ smile again; maybe a part of him believed he didn't deserve to, maybe another part of him just didn't have enough faith in himself to allow that kind of light back into his life again. Broken, unfixable Oliver Queen.

Maybe not so much anymore.

Felicity was on her third rotation when her eyes clapped to him in frightened realization, her pen slipping from her fingers and collapsing onto the carpet. With haste she ripped the earphones from her ears. "Wha - how long have you been standing there?" she stuttered, pushing loose strands behind her ears.

"Not long enough," he said smoothly.

She raised an eyebrow, the blush fading from her face. "You realize how creepy that sounds, right?"

He chuckled, stepping further into her office. "Noted."

Felicity's office space was quite the spectacle. Whereas most people preferred to leave their area devoid of their own personality aside from the odd family photograph or a calendar full of cat pictures, hers was the opposite. Neon-coloured post-its decorated the wall next to her computer, scattered around in some nonsensical pattern, her flowery handwriting scrawled across them. On the wall over the adjoining desk, random pictures of Felicity with her friends at various points in her life took up most of the space. In one corner, a pile of magazines laid sweetly, the top one crooked and lying half open. The other corner boasted decorative box of lavender scented tissues (the smell calmed her) as well as several opened boxes of candy.

"So what brings you by, Mr Queen?" she asked with the hint of a smile.

Oliver removed one hand from behind his back to reveal a steaming cup of coffee and placed it in front of her.

She puckered her lips. "You…brought me a coffee?"

"Yeah," he replied simply.

Felicity took it in her hands and swished it around a little, staring into the cup like she would find the answer to all of life's questions if she stared hard enough. She took a sip, the wheels in her head turning as she appraised him. Then, her eyes shone knowingly. "You need help with something."

"How do you do that?"

"Must be magic," she answered confidently.

He dropped his shoulders and breathed out a laugh. "It's nothing major; just a little research."

Her fingers brushed over the keyboard. "I should add 'Personal internet researcher for Oliver Queen' to my job description." She smiled. "Happily, I mean."

"Well I was hoping this would soften the blow," he said, moving his other hand from behind his back.

"But I thought that was what the coffee was fo-" Felicity stopped when she saw what he was holding, her hands freezing mid-air.

He presented her the tablet with care, silently urging her to take it from him.

A few seconds of her pointing at it and her mouth opening and closing followed. Finally, she managed to get her words out, "What…why….what is that?"

"Haven't you seen a tablet before?"

"Oliver!" she exclaimed, her loud voice making an appearance. He flinched slightly, his fingers flexing around the device. "What is this? What are you doing?"

"Will you just take it from me?"

"No."

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "No? What do you mean 'no'?"

"What I mean is that if I take that from you then I'm pretty sure I won't want to give it back but I can't do that because I can't accept it…you see?"

In exasperation, Oliver dragged over the chair by the door and dropped onto it. "Look, I know your tablet was destroyed when the hoods attacked and I know how much your technology means to you so I just wanted to…get you a new one."

"My tablet was destroyed because I decided to swing it at somebody – which now that I think of it was an extremely violent thing to do…" she shook her head, "anyway, what I'm saying is it's not your fault so you don't have to buy me a new one just because you feel guilty. Like I said, we're even. No one owes anybody anything."

He should have known how difficult this particular exchange was going to be. It was always the same story at birthdays and Hanukkah: he'd buy her something that may or may not have been on the pricey side and they'd spend who knows how long arguing over how he shouldn't have spent so much money all the while he would insist that he wanted to spend it on her because she was worth it. Most times it was difficult to tell who would come out on top.

Just like this time.

"Why can't you just accept it?" he inquired, shoving it back in her direction.

Her expression softened, a flicker of something flashing in her blues. "Because, Oliver, it's not right. As much as I would love it – and I would _really _love it, I can't just take it. I mean, it's really sweet of you but…" she paused, her eyes closing for a second, her hand clenching into a fist, "it's not your place anymore. Just because you feel…like you owe me, or feel like it was a good idea to get it for me…doesn't mean that you should. We're not…"

"Felicity, it's okay," he interjected evenly, hoping that he was doing a good job at hiding his deflation. Deep down he knew she would hate the fact that he went out and bought her something, but what he didn't expect was how much the rejection of it would hurt. Why did everything have to be so complicated? "You win," he said with a forced grin. "You were always better at arguing your case when it came to presents; I should have known I wouldn't win."

"You always caved too easily," she joked nostalgically, turning her attention back to her computer.

"That's true."

"So," she continued, clearing her throat, "what do you need?"

Right. Business time.

A serial killer by the name of The Dollmaker had escaped from Iron Heights after the Undertaking and lately had resumed his malevolent practices, preying on young, unsuspecting women at night and transforming them into something sick and twisted to nurse his warped mind. SCPD were hot on the case and despite commands not to do so, Officer Lance had been feeding The Hood as much information as possible; when he knew something, so did Oliver. It had taken longer than he had hoped but finally he had the link, the vital part of the investigation in his possession, to take the psycho down.

"I was wondering if you could find this particular skin cream for me-"

"Skin cream?" she repeated sceptically.

He nodded, resting his arms on her desk. "Yeah, uh Thea's birthday is coming up soon and I'm trying to get her a bunch of different things that I know that she likes…aside from the car." His gaze remained fixed away from her because he just knew she was shooting a piercing look in his direction. "Anyway, all I know is that it's called mermaid something or other."

"Wait, you want to get her a car _and _some skin cream?"

He hesitated. "Yep," he said, popping the 'p'.

Felicity shook her head, utter bewilderment written in her features. "Well the only skin cream I know that's to do with mermaids is Mermaiden. I use that one."

His orbs widened. "You do?"

She started back at the intensity of his question, her office chair squeaking under the surprise strain. "Yeah."

Trying to cover his outburst, Oliver sat back up straight and buttoned up his suit jacket just so that his hands had something to do. "Does that cream contain ethylparaben and sodium laureth sulphate?" At the blonde's probing gaze, he continued, "Uh, she…she has allergies and I just want to make sure that this is the right stuff. I know that those chemicals are…in whatever she buys."

So much for having an orchestrated excuse at the ready. He _really _needed to work on all of that.

Wordlessly, she took to the keyboard and danced her fingertips across the keys. In less than a minute, she turned the screen toward him. "You're in luck. They are Mermaiden's proprietary formula."

"Great. Any idea where I can get it?"

"Well I know that it's super high-end and only a handful of boutiques store it because it took me forever to find a place to buy it – apparently if you have an extremely delicate complexion, you have to fork out a boatload of cash just so that your skin can get its proper nourishment."

Oliver smirked at her tiny rant and watched as she clicked away again, taking rest in how elegant her swift movements were. Only Felicity could make him think things like that…

"Okay so only four stores in the city stock it." Snatching at her pad of empty post-its, she collected a pen and wrote down the addresses for him, handing the page to him when she was finished. "There you go."

He glanced quickly at the addresses. "Have I told you you're amazing?"

"I do recall that at some point," she quipped sheepishly. "But it's always nice to hear."

"That's good; you need to hear it because you are."

She dropped her eyes from his and planted them back on the screen, her hand toying with the strap on her watch. "I'm glad you brought up the cream because I've been meaning to pick some more; I'm nearly out of it. I think I'll go after work tonight."

"No, don't," Oliver blurted immediately.

Her head snapped his way.

He kicked himself for having zero restrain. The idea of Felicity putting herself in the way of The Dollmaker instantly instilled fear within him. Down to the type of skin cream she used, Felicity was the perfect target for the crazed man and knowing that she had a connection to all the other girls he had gone after did very little to ease his mind. "I mean, why don't I pick you up some when I go get Thea's? Save you the hassle."

The blonde visibly relaxed, content with his reason. "You don't have to do that. Besides, I need a few other things like lipstick and blusher and I doubt you'll be able to pick out the right ones."

"I could try."

"Try being the operative word there," she giggled softly. "I appreciate the offer Oliver, I do, but I've got it covered."

She was right – of course she was right. And there was no way he'd be able to talk her out of going to buy some without either telling her the truth or coming across as overbearing.

So as he sat there he made a decision: if she was going out at night to get the one thing The Dollmaker was looking for, then Oliver was going to make sure that The Hood would be right there alongside of her.

No doubt about that.

* * *

_The thing about Moira Queen was that to those who didn't know her personally, she could be a little intimidating. Cold stares, elegant poise, blank, emotionless expressions all wrapped up in Chanel suits and pearls._

_An aura of superiority seemed to encompass her wherever she went, and to many she was a woman with impeccable taste and status. She headed fundraisers and led all types of meetings and made herself known as a prominent figure amongst the Starling elite, her last name practically a brand in the city and her face a picture of wealth and power. _

_To Oliver though, she was just mom. _

_His mom that he wished he could spend more time with. As it turned out, holding such a place in the city meant far less time hanging out with her kids and more time on the phone, holding luncheons and burying her nose in date planners and calendars. He understood that she was busy, and a part of him was sort of happy that she wasn't always around to notice when he slipped up on schoolwork or came home way past curfew after a night out with Tommy, but that didn't mean that he didn't miss actually sharing a meal with her every now and again. _

_He didn't even get the chance to tell her about Felicity and as they weaved their way over to her, he made sure to remain the picture of ease for his girlfriend's sake. _

_His girlfriend…_

_Yeah, he'd never get tired of that. _

_It wasn't that he was worried that Moira wouldn't like Felicity – it was pretty much impossible to dislike her, it was more to do with how the woman would react to the news. Not telling her he had been in a relationship for three months might not have been his smartest move._

_Oliver cleared his throat when they reached her, making sure to roll his thumb over the blonde's knuckles in a soothing pattern. "Mom?" he said, grabbing the attention of the woman and the two other men she was chatting to. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" _

_Moira's eyes moved from her son over to Felicity in painstaking consideration. Her head automatically tilted to the side when she observed the girl, confusion and surprise etched into forehead. "Of course," she responded after a beat, turning back quickly to the men with a smile and a nod, who returned the gesture and went on their way. She spun around to face them again, hands clasped together in front of her frame. "What is it, dear?" she posed, keeping her eyes trained on Felicity the whole time. _

_He could feel the girl shrink beside him. His mom had really perfected that cold, detached gaze. _

"_I just wanted to introduce you to someone," he professed, pivoting his head to the side to smile at his date. Somehow looking at her made him feel all dizzy and light and right about then he didn't care about how his mother took the news or what she had to say; all he cared about was Felicity's hand clutched to his, her blue orbs seeking solace in his own and how fast his heart beat knowing that she was with him. _

_Yep he was so far gone there was no question of turning back anymore. _

"_Yes, and who is your friend here?"_

"_This is Felicity Smoak." His smile widened. "My girlfriend."_

_Felicity squeaked involuntarily, a timid smile forcing its way through. "Hi, Mrs Queen. It's really nice to meet you." Moira narrowed her view, her forehead wrinkled in concentration as though she was trying to solve an equation. "I've heard a lot about you – not that we talk about you behind your back or anything it's just that Oliver mentions you from time to time because, well, you're his…mom."_

_The woman's brow deepened. _

_Oliver coughed, flashing her a reassuring grin and tightening his hold on her. _

"_Girlfriend?" she repeated as if tasting the word on her tongue. _

"_Yep. We've been seeing each other for three months now," he informed casually. _

"_Three months?"_

_It was as if she had to echo his answers so that she could wrap her head around the information. The news ruminated in her head, conveyed through her somewhat peculiarly amused expression and squared shoulders. His mother didn't have many tells but it was easy to figure out when she was intrigued and she was _definitely _intrigued by the girl squirming uncomfortably in front of her. _

"_Yes. We met in school."_

"_I tripped over air and managed to cause a scene in the library. Oliver was quick to my rescue," Felicity filled in fondly. _

"_Every now and again I'm known to be something of a hero," he quipped. _

"_Oh yeah well don't let it get to your head."_

"_Why? I like being your hero," he smirked indulgently, taking the opportunity to kiss her temple. _

_The blonde just rolled her eyes, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth again. _

_A tiny beginning of a smile eked onto Moira's face, the lines around her eyes crinkling in the slightest sense. "Well, Felicity, it's lovely to meet you." She extended her hand out to her and Felicity accepted it tentatively, the handshake brief but warm. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight."_

"_Me, too."_

_Oliver relaxed, letting his fingers flex on Felicity's hip and in doing so, noted how all the tension in the blonde's body dissipated in an instant. Deep down he told himself it was because his mother hadn't cast her out like some lowly peasant, but he couldn't suppress the thought that just maybe his touch had that effect on her. "We're gonna go watch a movie in the study; no offence but this party's kinda lame," he announced cheekily, that Queen beam pasted onto his face as his mother eyed him with nothing short of amusement. _

"_Oliver!" Felicity blurted out in shock, head shaking profusely. "This party isn't lame, Mrs Queen – it's great! I mean, everyone's having a really good time…" she threw her head in all directions, eagerly searching for evidence to back up her claim. Her face fell though when all she was met with was clumps of people looking bored, chit-chatting passively. _

_Oliver could barely bite back his laugh as he looked at the girl scrambling for something to say, but knowing that the flailing about was only going to cause her anxiety, he jumped in. "What Felicity means is that I'm sure they're having a great time…on the inside."_

_Her head whipped around to him in incredulity and all he could do was gaze at her tenderly. She was adorable when she was flustered. And from the strange look on his mother's face, he gathered she thought the same way. "Anyway, I think that's our cue to leave," he said, starting to pull her away. "We wouldn't want to cramp your style, mom; this party is just too much for us."_

_Despite herself, Felicity giggled at him, lightly shaking her head at his comment. _

_What Oliver didn't see though was the way Moira observed them as they half-walked, half-jogged out of the room with a content grin forming on her face. _

* * *

Oliver and Digg had eyes on the store the whole time. The odds of Felicity being taken by The Dollmaker were just a little too high for his liking and as they watched her go into the shop, his agitation and anxiety reached a new level. They still didn't thoroughly know how the man operated other than he chose his targets for their skin cream and the mere fact that she just had to go out and get some more while he was on the rampage was just the type of luck Oliver didn't need. He needed her safe, whether he did it as Oliver Queen or The Hood and Digg didn't argue with him. _That _surprised him a little, but he figured that the man had grown fond of her since their meeting and understood the need to keep her protected – especially with someone that sinister on the prowl.

"Did you forward the information on to Lance?" he asked while they wanted for her.

Oliver nodded curtly. "I gave him the name of the cream and the store locations. They're thinking about using a decoy to lure him out."

"A decoy? That's a little risky, isn't it?"

"I agreed to be on site to lend a hand," he continued, his voice slightly strained.

Diggle nodded, turning his attention back to the task at hand. "You know, Oliver, I understand you want to protect Felicity but don't you think she'd be safer if she knew who you really were? Then you wouldn't have to lie to her about…well, anything. And it wouldn't look suspicious to her when a guy wearing green leather happens to shadow her sometimes?" Oliver shot the man a look. "You're right; it'll still look suspicious," he said with a huffed chuckle.

He set his jaw, annoyed that he brought it up _again_. "If I tell her who I am…" he exhaled heavily, "…it puts her at more risk. What I do is dangerous. And I can't put her in danger."

"Oliver-"

"I can't do it, Digg."

"_No, _Oliver, look." With a disgruntled expression, he pointed to the store. Felicity had just left and crossed the street, making her way back to her car.

Oliver's body came alive, every nerve alight as he traced her every move, his eyes never leaving her…until she went around a corner and out of his eyeline.

The shriek that rang out into the open night sky made his bones rattle, every atom in his core shaking as the noise reverberated around his mind. They both swept into action, sprinting toward the noise, breaths coming in panicked spurts.

Fire ripped through his body as they closed in and he saw her struggle against her assailant, pushing and pulling and scraping and screaming to get out of his grip. Using her strength, she caught him by surprise and hit him with her elbow into his throat and he released his hold on her, choking at the blow. But as she ran away from him, she tripped over a last ditch effort he made to grab her and stumbled forward, smacking her head off a crate and immediately going out cold. Teeth barred, Oliver lunged forward and fired an arrow at the man who was staggering away from them, but just at the last second, he moved an inch, the arrow missing him by a millimetre.

Too distracted by the unconscious woman, he rushed over to her, resting an arm on her side, examining the injury.

"Is she okay?" Digg asked breathlessly, catching up to him.

"She hit her head – stay with her!"

Though his heart argued with his head, Oliver took off after the man, his blood boiling to the point where he thought he'd explode.

But the trail ran cold quickly; The Dollmaker nowhere to be seen.

Cursing to himself, he raced back to Felicity and Diggle.

"How is she?" he questioned a little too aggressively. The sight of her limp body lying on the cold, hard ground unsettled him too much for him to remain calm.

John levelled him with an understanding look. "She'll be okay. Is he gone?"

He flexed his neck in anger. "Yeah. He's gone."

"Oliver, I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, but if she comes to and you're wearing that," he waved his hand at him, signalling to the suit, "you're gonna have a lot of explaining to do."

"No," he cut in, "if she sees you with me, then she'll have questions but if she just sees The Hood…"

"She'll just think she has a knight in shining armour," he finished wryly.

He pulled the hood over his head, the harsh shadows obscuring the majority of his face. "I'll make sure she gets home safely."

"Are you sure?" Oliver could tell that Diggle didn't exactly agree with the plan but being his partner and friend, was accepting it regardless.

"I'm sure."

As if on cue, Felicity stirred, her head lolling from side to side. One hand fell onto her stomach, the other reaching up to her forehead.

"Go," Oliver urged to the man, who listening, glanced at him briefly before leaving the scene.

He was over to her instantly, making sure to keep a respectable distance from her. Enough cracks from his friend about how his lack of disguise was laughable forced him to look down, utilising the shadows from the crates to his advantage.

Felicity's eyelids fluttered a few times before her blue depths became present, her gaze searching until they landed on him. With a gasp, she began to clamber away from him hastily, fear etched into her features, legs kicking until she pulled herself upright.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he vowed solemnly, his voice distorted. A hand came out to assure her and she spied it warily, her eyes flicking between it and his covered face.

"What do you want? What – what happened?"

His heart tugged at the distress in her tone.

"You were attacked and you hit your head. I'd suggest not moving too much; you might have a concussion."

She gulped, seemingly remembering her ordeal all of sudden. "You saved me?" she posed sceptically.

"You saved yourself. You got away from him. I just scared him off."

"Oh…well…thank you," she said seriously, wrapping her arms around her body.

He licked his lips, hating how alien her voice sounded. "You don't need to thank me."

"Well, I am. Thanking you, that is."

It amazed him how stubborn she was even to a hooded vigilante. If the situation was different he would have even smiled at her.

She began to move away from him and he called out, "I don't know if you should be driving in your condition."

"I'm fine," she assured too quickly. Closing her eyes briefly, she shook her head. "I mean, I have a little headache but I don't live that far from here so I'm sure I can make it home okay. Plus, I've had concussions before – too many if you ask me but that's a whole different story – and this definitely doesn't feel like one…"

"You're just going to leave it to chance?" he asked incredulously, annoyed at her decision.

"If it makes you feel better, you can follow me the whole way there to make sure-"

"I will," he interjected.

"Wait, what? No – I was joking."

"Well I'm not," he answered decisively with a thunderous boom.

Felicity seemed to note straight away that there was no arguing with him. He reckoned the brooding vigilante look was paramount to her backing down that easy.

"Fine."

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Fine."

And so Oliver, moonlighting as The Hood, followed her home as she drove as carefully as he had ever seen her through the streets of Starling, his eyes never leaving her until she went inside and locked the door.

Some things never really change, do they?

* * *

**So what did you all think? I found it a little difficult to rearrange The Dollmaker storyline so that it would fit into this particular story but hopefully it was okay. Anywho, please drop me a review letting me know what you thought - they seriously make my day and give me motivation to continue with this story! Hope you guys liked it! :)**


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